#i miss those fuckers every day of my life

[sashaforthewin]

"Eddie Munson! I didn't think you'd show up!" Tommy H exclaimed, looking shocked as he came over to shake Eddie's hand like they were old friends instead of old enemies.

"How could I miss the twenty year reunion?" He asked.

"You didn't seem to have any trouble missing the ten year reunion," Tommy pointed out.

"Yeah, well, ten years isn't enough time for people to lose their egos. Last time I set foot in Hawkins, people were still hunting me for sport."

"Uh. Yeah. Listen, man, I'm actually really glad you're here. I want to apologize for the way we treated you back then. Not just with Chrissy's death, but in general. We were just dumbass kids."

"Yeah, appreciate that," Eddie recited for the seventh time this night. Whatever. Eddie's life was amazing and all these fuckers looked rough as hell and pretty pathetic, so let them have their little breakthrough moment or whatever this was for them. Eddie didn't lose anything by letting these folks think they had become better people. Maybe they had, who knows, Eddie couldn't care less.

"No, really, I feel so- holy shit, is that Steve Harrington?"

"Oh, yeah, he's with me."

"He's with you? Like, as in…"

"Hmm? Oh, no, we aren't actually gay, we just got stuck playing a really long game of gay chicken. I thought he'd give up by now, it's been twenty years."

"Ha ha, that's a good one. I can't believe Steve Harrington is gay."

"Like I said, he's not. We are both just really competitive. We have three kids and two cats and a really nice house together, he's a great roommate but I know he'll crack first."

Tommy's smile wavered.

"If you don't believe me, you can ask him yourself."

"No, I, uh…"

"Anyways," Eddie said, patting him on the shoulder and taking his leave, "I'd love to stay and chat about how great my life is so you don't feel so bad about your past self, but I see other knuckleheads waiting to apologize to me and I'd rather get it over with quickly so I can go fuck my roommate in the school bathroom in the hopes that he finally admits I win."

Tommy stood staring after Eddie, completely baffled. Then he hurried over to his former friends along the wall.

"Babe, why is everyone looking at us weird?"

Eddie glanced around as if he hadn't noticed everyone watching them and shrugged.

"Standard homophobia, probably."

Steve sighed.

"No, I know what homophobia looks like. You did something. What did you do?"

"Hmm? Oh, uh, I might have… told them we were playing gay chicken."

Steve groaned. "Eddie, you didn't! Ugh, this is the elementary school all over again! You know I still have to see those teachers every day at pick up, right? No matter how much I explain you were joking I can tell they don't completely believe me and it's been three years!"

"Yeah, but you don't ever have to see any of these folks again after tonight," Eddie pointed out, face full of mischievous glee.

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. Any attempt at true anger was pointless in the face of Eddie's playful charm.

"Fine. Let's go grab each other's butts while we slow dance to confuse them more, I guess."

"That's the spirit!"

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Don't Wanna Miss A Thing

Complete fluff, tiny bit of angst but mainly cheesy fluff.

Originally this was going to be a vampire Eddie fic but I changed my mind halfway through writing, I hope you still enjoy ❤️

Lyrics from Aerosmith's I don't wanna miss a thing

💞

Eddie seeks out the sound of your heartbeat. It soothes him, reminds him that you're alive and that the horrors of the Upside Down are now over.

He lays beside you on his bed and rests his head on your chest, the tension of the day melts away and he listens to the steady beats of your heart.

When the final showdown occurred between Hawkins and The Upside Down, Eddie was sure he wouldn't survive, he had already cheated death once when he survived the demobats attack; there was no way he would be lucky this time.

By some miracle he did survive. It was you who nearly died, who had nearly been torn apart by a Demogorgon- it certainly did some damage before you and Nancy torched the fucker.

Then you were on the ground and barely moving, blood seeping through your shirt and your heartbeat was slow, too slow. A soft smile graced your features as Eddie held you and you whispered those three little words.

I love you. Words Eddie had been wanting to hear for weeks but never thought it could be possible, now they were a deathbed confession.

Things for you were touch and go for days as you were whisked away to some government hospital and Eddie was a panicked, anxious mess; not even his strongest weed helped calm his racing mind.

When you were at the hospital Eddie heard no news for days and resigned himself to the worst. However he promised himself that if you did pull through, then he wasn't going to hide how he felt, he would tell you that he loved you too.

It seemed like a hopeless dream at that point but then you did survive and Eddie didn't waste anymore time, he confessed his feelings and the two of you had been inseparable since.

Fuck, he could have lost you. Nightmares still plagued Eddie about how still you were or the blood all over your clothes...the sheer terror he felt when you whispered I love you then closed your eyes and said no more.

The only reason he knew you were alive is because El found a faint pulse.

Needless to say he never took for granted the fact that you survived, against all odds you were here sleeping soundly beside him, the soft sound of your breathing was like a balm to his chaotic thoughts.

He peers up at you smiling as he sees you're fast asleep, expression peaceful, a tiny smile on your face. Briefly Eddie wonders what you're dreaming of? He hopes it's of him; just dreams that are sweet and untroubled.

They had enough of trouble for a lifetime.

Eventually Eddie begins to feel tired, he leans up just for a moment to press soft kisses to your forehead, your eyes, nose and then your lips.

Nearly losing you and the thought of never seeing your beautiful face again, hearing your laughter or your voice had scared the shit out of Eddie. So every day he's with you he thanks his lucky stars that you're alive.

He never gets tired of memorising every little detail of you, listening intently to you and holding you as close as possible to him whenever he can.

Eddie intends to never miss a moment of your time together because he's lucky that you're still here and in his life.

And he doesn't want to miss a thing.

❤️

Lying close to you feeling your heart beating, and I wonder what you're dreaming, wondering if it's me you're seeing.

And then I kiss your eyes and thank god we're together and I just wanna stay with you in this moment forever.

Forever and ever

I don't wanna close my eyes, I don't wanna fall asleep. 'Cause I'd miss you baby

And I don't wanna miss a thing.

I don't wanna miss a thing- Aerosmith

[jolapeno]

voicemails

frankie morales x f!reader

do we drabble on sundays? is this what we do? well, anyway, here’s some soft sunday fluff. no warnings: except fluff and sweetness and lovely softness. dedicated to @msjarvis who didn't ask for this but I’m giving anyway.

JUST THINKING ABOUT HOW THE TWO OF YOU BEGIN LEAVING VOICE NOTES FOR ONE ANOTHER. It started one time when life took one of you away from the other—the bed you share and the walls you laugh inside of are lonely without the pair of you together. Because it all feels vaster, quieter.

Then it became a thing. A make-do measure, a thing both of you grew to need first thing in the morning and last thing at night. A habit. A tradition. The day not beginning or ending without it.

It quickly becomes a comfort, a thing that brings the both of you joy, happiness—in the same way the scent of your shampoo does for him and how when he’s alone he leans closer to your pillow because it lingers and he consumes as much of it as he can to trick himself he’s not lay in bed alone.

Your voice in the morning makes up for the fact your mug isn’t left on the side or in the sink, all used. Because he hates it when he wakes and finds it in the cupboard, where he put it last night, it rumbling through him and making his chest clench.

There’s a list of things he misses when you’re not home, and if he begins, he isn’t sure he’ll ever stop.

Frankie supposes you’ll have your own list. An itinerary of things you miss about him when he’s out of town. Sometimes you share them, let them slip out and mumble them down the phone when you’re pacing, unsure what to do when he’s not home. It makes his heart squeeze in his chest, all tight, especially when he hears you doing mundane things he usually gets to watch you do, like cook or make a drink.

It’s why he likes the voice notes. Likes being a part of your day even if he’s not there. Has the chance to listen to them on his drive or when he’s brushing his teeth—pretending, even in hotel rooms—that you’re closer than you are. Staring at your contact photo as you say those three words, I miss you.

The voice notes range in topic. Sometimes they’re about your day, about the fucker you work with that he’d love to break the nose off; sometimes they’re a ramble about your breakfast, interspersed with a minor rant about something. Odd times they’re about dinner, hearing you move things in the refrigerator before you confess you’ll order and leave him leftovers.

He has his favourites, a handful of ones he’ll listen to on days where he needs more sunshine. One is the day you tripped, again, over his toolbox. An odd choice, he knows. It beginning all high-pitched, voice tinged in venom and anger:

“Francisco Morales, if you leave your toolbox in the hallway one more time—“

Then it was doused in sweetness, absolute honey, and it wasa exhilarating to fucking listen to.

“—Oh, you washed up. Oh, baby. Well, shit—Frankie, I love you okay? Just put your damn tools away.”

But the one he has saved is one where you’ve tired, exhausted—brain having kept you awake and every noise in the house doing something to make the shadows seem more dangerous than they were. You’re babbling, eyes likely closed, voice just reeling off the things your brain is thinking—no filter, no barrier between thought and tongue.

“—and baby, even though I’ve been sleeping in your clothes, I miss you. ‘Cause you make me happy—so happy, you know that? You have to. Tell you a lot. The bed does feel super weird without you. It’s really cold, and big—like too big. I turned the thermostat up, I know, I know, I’ll turn it down. Oh, and baby, I saw sprinkles moonwalk again on the fence. I did try to record it—but, you know me, I’m clumsy, chipped my phone. Don’t be mad. Please. I know you won’t cause you’re good, kind, nice—god you makemehappy. So tired. Justwanttosleep, you know?—“

He remembers driving back through the night the following day—slipping in, quiet as a mouse. Old training came in handy as he slid out of his boots and cautiously placed his keys.

Frankie managed to miss the floorboard he needs to fix, the one that usually gives him away—and even remembered to not use the light in the bathroom. His last test had been the bed, somehow managing to get in with precision, even roll you closer without waking you.

It’s worth it, all the time away—the voice notes in between—for the life he’s able to build with you and the look he wakes to in the morning.

A thing he thinks each time.

Because you look at him like he solved every problem wrong in your world; you look at him like he makes the impossible, possible.

And, after all he’s been through, he’d been sure that ship had more than sailed. That his chance had gone, faded, slipped through his fingers like water or dust.

But here you are. Your voice filling his ear in real time, whispering a good morning, if he had a safe drive—and he’s full of gratitude all over again. As he is every time he gets to hear your voice—in person or through the phone.

an: sometimes, voice notes are just the best, right? I also love voice mails, and all voice related things.

[theemporium]

camgirl!reader? can we get some possessive lando maybe??

welcome to the angel-universe🫡she’s gonna be a smutty one! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Usually, Lando had no problem sharing you. 

You were drop dead gorgeous and your moans sounded so damn pretty that, if anything, it would just be downright selfish for him to keep that to himself. He didn’t mind sharing his Angel with the world because the world deserved to see the beauty that you were. 

And he knew that as much as they watched, it was him that you came home to at the end of the day. 

He knew that. He did. He really, really did. But sometimes it was just hard to remember.

It had been difficult for you both. Between the triple header and all your assignment deadlines overlapping, it meant that you were unable to join him at the races. You were used to the time apart, but after almost a month of timezones and messages that didn’t really give you what you needed, it was clear to everyone that you missed each other. 

Especially Lando.

You were his rock. You were his person. You were his best friend. And to not have you there after a stint of bad races, it just only made everything worse. He was moody, snappier than anyone had ever seen. But unfortunately there was nothing anyone could do.

He thought watching your videos would help, that even just seeing your face would make the tightness in his chest ease up a little. But all it did was piss him off when he saw the men flooding your comments, saw you playing out their fantasies, giggling and smiling and coming for them.

Logically, Lando knew that this was your job. That you were just doing what you were being paid to do and it meant nothing. But he was exhausted and jet-lagged and he missed you, and it was really fucking difficult to be logical in that state.

He almost felt bad. 

Emphasis on the almost.

“That’s it, look how fucking good you look taking my cock, huh?” Lando groaned, his head thrown back as he felt a rush of pleasure run down his spine. He tucked his chin to his chest, looking down and watching the way you were writhing beneath him.

He was all over you the second he walked through the door of your apartment. His hands were in your hair, his lips were on your neck and it took less than thirty seconds before he had you sprawled on your couch with your thighs squeezing his head. 

Then against the wall in your corridor. 

And then over your vanity desk.

Until you finally reached your bed. Your body was on fire, hot and flustered with everyone one of his touches but you couldn’t get enough. After three weeks of using your own fingers and toys, you craved him in a way you had never craved anything else in your life—and he was just as insatiable as you were. 

“Fuck, Lando!” You buried your face into your pillow, the soft material wet with a mix of your own tears and drool but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Please, please, please—”

“That vibrator not enough for you, baby? I saw you,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, his words emphasised with each thrust of his hips. “Saw you make yourself come over and over and over again.”

“Wasn’t the same,” you sobbed, your fists clenching the sheets between your fingers. “Needed you. Needed your cock.”

“Yeah?” He groaned when he felt your walls clench around him. “My Angel needed my cock, hm? Should have let them all hear it, baby. Should have let all your little watchers hear you beg for my cock.”

You let out a choked noise mixed between a whine and a moan.

“Show them how fucking desperate you are,” he continued, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you back onto his cock, moving your body like you weighed nothing. “Let them know that they can look all they want, but you’re my Angel.”

“Yours,” you gasped out. “Only yours.”

“That’s right, Angel,” he grunted as he leaned over, his lips brushing against your cheek and his cock pushed so deep inside you, it made you choke on your breath. “Only mine. And I’m gonna make sure you every one of those fuckers know it too.”

.

[gaymurdersalad]

[ HOWDY Y’ALL! WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM FOR A FUN BROADCAST!

If you haven’t noticed, it’s pride month! That means we’re legally allowed to be gay for an entire month before we have to disappear into our burrows once more! To celebrate the occasion, I decided to do a fun little pride post! ]

[ I’ve gathered all the little fuckers in The Void to poke and prod at them like zoo animals. In other words, I figure they all have some neat identities and wouldn’t mind being interrogated in honor of pride month. I’ll go ahead and turn it over to them, but I’ll say now, no matter how much they kick and scream, I am definitely NOT holding them at gunpoint! This workspace is… definitely OSHA approved. Don’t let them tell you otherwise. Have attem! ]

> This is fucking stupid. Stop waving that gun at me. I’m talking.

> My identity isn’t anything special. I’m just some guy who decided he was a guy way later than everyone else did. I don’t really give a damn what pronouns people use on me because usually they just end up avoiding me at all costs or scampering away like frightened animals.

> I’m bisexual, is that anything? But, like, only bisexual in a sexual way. I could not fucking fathom living a long prosperous life with anyone. How the hell are you supposed to enjoy someone for that long? Getting married seems like a scam. I bet it is. I bet it’s like the invention of Valentine’s Day for greeting card companies. You’re not actually supposed to be in love with someone for that long, it just doesn’t seem possible.

> … My marriage with Dave does not count, that wasn’t an officiated wedding. I’m fairly certain he fished those rings out of a water fountain and pawned his dress off a hooker. I do vividly recall dumpster diving for my tuxedo.

> Uhhhhhh wuh? Hmmmm, I’onno what the hell I am, Old Sport! Fuck!

> Shit, I guess I like everyone. A hole’s a hole. Why the fuck would I discriminate? I think I got a preference for men though! They’re so fuckin’ easy to romance! Unless they’re the likes of Sportsy, then it’s the hardest goddamn thing you’ll ever seduce. He gets real gay when he’s on acid, but then again, I get real gay on cocaine. Man, our wedding was immaculate. Imma tell our kids about it one day!

> Likewise, I’ll be any gender you fuckin’ want me to be. I got like, pocket gender, I can just whip it out on request. Want me to be a dude? Fuck yeah, alright. Want me to be a pretty lady? No goddamn problem at all! I can be both at the same time or one more than the other— who gives a shit? I’m just havin’ fun.

> Good fucking lord, really? That shotgun does not scare me, you orange fool—

> … I have a complicated identity. As any other living organism does.

> I have found that over the years I do not experience sexual attraction and that I experience little to no romantic attraction. I only recall feeling romantically attracted to one person in my entire life. I doubt it will happen again. > And it may seem, uhm... Embarrassing, but I do deviate from your traditional "man's man". In laymen's terms, I do not feel particularly drawn to being male. I am very certain I was born with the intention of being a man, but my mind has refused to accept it. I am not sure why. Instead of feeling like a proper bloke, I feel rather empty. If I could have it my way, I would be some... human silhouette rather than a full fledged man. I do not know. This is idiotic. > I cringe every time someone addresses me in a masculine way. I wish I could simply have no pronouns. I can deal with them because I am indeed a grown ass... person, but I just wish it were not so. Whatever. I am done complaining.

> Oh! That’s very simple, this is really easy.

> I literally don’t have anything going for me at all.

> What with the entire fabric of time being on my shoulders and all, I don’t even think about gender or romance much. I do love being a girl! It’s one of the things I miss most about being alive, actually. Pretty dresses, playing with makeup in the bathroom, trying to curl my hair without burning my scalp— I mean, it sounds horrendous sometimes, but you can’t beat it. Feeling alive and content in your own skin. Just one of those precious things that spawned from the chance of life.

> … Uhm, Uhhh… Men.

> Yeah. I Like Them. I Think… Yes, I Could Probably Date A Man Or Two. I Don’t Know, Employee, Why Did You Pull Me Out Here? You Know I Have Copious Paperwork To Do! Some @$!# $#*@ Kid Just Fell Into The Ball Pit And Got Mauled Jaws-Style And His Parents Are Really Grilling Us For It. Dumb&@#*s, It’s Not My Fault Their Kid Heeded The Call Of The Sirens. I Swear, This Job Is Going To Kill Me Or Force My Hand Into Becoming The Next Purple Guy—

> extremely in love with my wife and my gender!

> it was actually very cute how we met, employee. have i ever told you? heh heh, we met in highschool. she was on the football team and i was a cheerleader, can you believe that? oh, i was head over heels for her instantly. she was strong, she was quick thinking, she was so hecking beautiful, employee… i never got to tell her how i felt while we were in highschool, but we were good friends. very good friends. come a few years later, some old buddies of ours want to have a get together and dish it out like old times… go vandalize and drive off into the sunset in the back of a pickup truck sipping on horrendously cheap beer and laughing off our university work or our jobs. when i get to our spot, though, i see her. i’d recently wised up to my gender, y’know, had my hair cut and fresh scars on my chest, so suffice to say i looked nothing like i did when i cheered for her during football season. she’d done the same, employee— she grew out her hair to the middle of her back in such beautiful dark curls, her bangs tied back so every inch of her perfect face could glimmer underneath the neon lights of the derelict bowling alley we’d found ourselves in. she looked at me, and i sensed instant recognition. she smiled through her bright red lipgloss and rushed up to me, wrapping me up in a hug, and i swear, she hadn’t lost any of those muscles— almost broke my ribs!

> the rest of the night, we were so… comfortable together. sure, during highschool we were close, but without saying a single word about what happened to us between then and now, we understood, and employee— i think it brought us closer. it was around three in the morning while we sat around a bonfire with the rest of our buddies when she layed her head on my shoulder and i felt an unfathomable warmth. i knew i wanted her for the rest of my life.

> … i just love her so much, employee.

> oh ok

> its rlly whatever. any pronouns any gender anybody who wants me. who cares

> oh i do have a preference for girls. theyre pretty. if you disagree u are not blessed enough to be loved by gods best creation and ur pissed about it. i can tell

> what if i was actually catholic would that be fucked up or what

> …

> … I cannot… physically stress how abhorrent sexuality is to me. What… What an utterly damning notion. Someone’s greedy hands cursing you and plaguing your with their own dirty human desires. How disrespectful. How… invasive. Why on Earth would it be my responsibility to supply someone with something to love? Am I really subject to whatever the hell people think of me? Whether they “love” me or perceive me as some… some man, some object of attraction? Disgusting.

> If I could shed every trace of a sex or gender from my loathed corpse, I would. Often times I lay awake at night and consider skinning myself for the hell of it. I’ve related this to David and he said I sounded “fuckin’ insane”. Stupid bastard. I want to be a skeleton. I wanna be a fucking skeleton! Pretty and thin and not alive whatsoever! God damn this accursed body and its… rancid flesh and unidentifiable mystery goop. Ugh. Ugh!!!! God, the biggest blight on my “life” was being cursed with gender!

> I was born as a female which was just laughably wrong, then I recall amending that and trying to become a man, but none of it worked. All of it sucked. All of it was wretched. The ideal form is a ghost or ghoul or skeletal figure. You can’t romance a ghost or ghoul or skeletal figure. Can’t have sex with that. Unless you’re really, really determined. I don’t think even David could be that serious about his sexuality.

> … I… Hope. Oh dear. Oh god, I really am unsafe from the horrors of this world. God, I wish that bear had taken me out before I showed him to his grave.

[aunt-bridget]

Gender Gap. Part 3

With the ‘boss’ slumped over his desk, virgin ass almost worn out. I took the chance to open the party up to some close girlfriends. I sent an email from the pig’s laptop telling the front desk that some guests would be heading upstairs. The one advantage of this asshole being a hateful prick, is that nobody questioned him. Certainly, having late visits from women dressed in leather wasn’t that unusual and therefore, it made my life so much easier.

I got a message from one of my girls saying that they were getting in the elevator…..and sure enough, a few minutes later, they were standing at the doorway of his office. The four of them were dressed like leather sluts, but all were experienced Dommes and I learned a lot from them. On the far left, Miss Jessica stood, smirking at me. She was the leader of the pack, and the most viscous. My sister, Miss Teresa was on the far right….like me, she was the tallest of the group and probably the softest in nature. Next to her was Miss Eve, her Latino temperament was fiery as fuck and she really hated guys with a passion. She was the sissification expert and often carried a range of chastity toys….never wasting an opportunity to lock the cock. Finally, next to Miss Jessica, was Miss Kara. She was the youngest and the most enthusiastic. She was strong as an ox and had no problem overpowering her prey.

With all five of us in residence, our boy was going to beg like never before. His cock was subjected to plenty of abuse, ruined orgasms, knife play and his ass? Even I wondered if he should take any more punishment. Miss Jessica was busy thrusting the fuck out of him as I walked around and grabbed his chin and saw the glazed, exhausted look on his face. His mascara had streaked down his face and I almost pitied the poor fucker…

“I did tell you I was very good, didn’t I? You should be honoured that my girls wanted to join in. They all bring a unique perspective to our occupation….and you’ll pay for the privilege, won’t you, baby?”

He nodded and feebly tried to beg. I spat in his face and brought my sister over. Her strapon was easily the thickest of the lot and his ball gag was removed….the drool spilled onto his desk and before he could speak, the cock went in his mouth. We were having a good old fashioned spit roast. Miss Eve took over the ass fucking and Miss Kara held him firm as he took more abuse. I turned his ass cheeks into burger meat as he looked like he was going to pass out. I held my hands up to the girls and we stopped, punishing was one thing, causing serious injury was another. Unlike this abusive cunt, we knew the limits of our cruelty.

While he recovered his strength, we decided to leave and enjoy the rest of the weekend, satisfied that this bastard had been given a taste of some justice. You see, we knew that he routinely abused the girls he paid to have in his office. His reputation for paying big money often clouded the judgement of the younger girls who were desperate to live, pay rent, go through school. He knew that and took full advantage of them…..so now it was payback.

The footage we had would be edited to maximise his humiliation and with his money now cleared, we had plenty to distribute to those he had hurt. We didn’t take everything of course, we left our toy all secure and safe in his office.

Leashed, penis gagged, hooded and dressed like a whore, he would be found by security and we would be like ghosts….cctv wouldn’t be able to catch us and because he wanted to keep his proclivities secret, my identity was never known. It was possible that he would bear the marks of his punishments for the rest of his days, but he was now ruined in every way.

We weren’t exactly Robin Hood and the bond of merry men, but even the cruelest bitches can have a heart at times….

[tiredfox64]

My honest chances of getting with the MK Men

Okay so basically this is me rating myself (cause my brain don’t shut up) on how likely it is that any of the mk men would date me. This will be MK1 mind you

Bi-Han: 0%-10%- Not a chance in hell. He doesn’t want to hear about my day, he doesn’t want to listen about my hyperfixations, he doesn’t like my hair, my body type ain’t it, he doesn’t believe I have mental illnesses, he hates that I take hot showers, the list goes on. That 10% is if I have the balls to bite back I think he’d like that.

Kuai Liang: 40%- He’d see me as a nice woman but would recognize that I don’t want to be mature all the time. And my definition of tradition is way different than his. Studded belts, raccoon tails, and Juicy Couture are not traditional.

Tomas: 80%- Okay, I’m biased here cause I love this man. But I genuinely don’t think he cares too much. If I’m loving, he will take me. The missing 20% is because I can get aggressive or heated quickly.

Syzoth: 50%-100%- I’d say 50% because he did have a family before so he might not want to move on which is okay. But I think he would like me cause I love reptiles and I’m not afraid to eat a cricket or two.

Rain: 50%- Being smart never stopped me from being a dumbass but I think he will see I’m still smart no matter what. Although I love this man to death I deadass think we would have fights cause he’s cocky.

Johnny Cage: 30%- He would think he’s too cool for me. Simple as that. Will he flirt with me? Maybe. Will he date me? Slim chance.

Kenshi: 70%- He chill tbh. I don’t think he would have a problem with my weight or my illnesses. We’ll find a way to vibe. But I’m not the first girl he would pick.

Raiden: 90%- Similar with Tomas he don’t care too much. He doesn’t get scared by me getting heated. That 10% is because we’ve lived different lives so it would be hard to find middle ground. I can’t take silence 😭.

Kung Lao: 70%- He’d love my family more than me. They make good food. I can cook too but he wants the whole family to bring him pupusas and Shepard’s Pie.

Geras: 0%- Nothing against me, he just has an important job and I respect that.

Liu Kang: 10%- Again I think this would be nothing against me he just loves his Kitana. But there is a tiny chance for me I feel like.

Reiko: 30%- He doesn’t like earthrealmers and I’m not sure he would like my body type. But I think he would love my attitude so that’s where that little percent comes from.

Shao: 0%- Nope, just nope. He hates earthrealmers. Wouldn’t give me the time of day.

Havik: 80%- Okay hear me out. I get points off because I’m religious (so I follow a god) and I am against anarchy. Other than that, he would love me. Like I feel like he would love a chubby girl. He’d love my hair, he’d love my tattoos, he’d love the way I express myself (being topless). I’d love to watch analog horror series with him. I’d give him a kiss every time I’d get scared.

Baraka: 0%- He had a family once and he doesn’t want to infect me. That’s reasonable.

Shang Tsung: 50%- Listen, I’d feel like he’d fuck with anybody. If I tell him how good my immune system is that gives me points. That means I’m durable to experiment on. And he can give me back shots while doing it.

Quan Chi: 10%- Nope, I’d lift my rosary up before letting him close. He was fucking with spirits I’d curse him out for that and he would not like me. He would like that I have an attitude.

Ermac: 0.01%-…well at least one of those fuckers inside of there would like me.

BONUS ROUND: KAMEOS (my favorites to be exact)

Mavado: 100%- Yeah he’s loyal to his clan but if I slap him and immediately kiss him after that’s it he’s done. He loyal to me and his clan after that.

Stryker: 50%- I’M good, everyone else in my life has a problem.

[paladin-heart5]

Save Her (Part One)

Leon Kennedy x Reader

Summary; Leon's fiancee has been captured by an underground black market group. He needs to save her, but once he does, he needs to prepare for her recovery.

CW; hurt/comfort, captivity, swearing, blood/bruising, mild suicidal thoughts. (lmk if I missed anything)

Three weeks. For three weeks his best friend, no, fiancée, has been missing. And after all that time stressing, all those sleepless nights, he's got a solid lead. An underground gang that sells bio-weapon prototypes. They buy blueprints off the black market and build them to sell to high bidders. With the intel Hunnigan found, they gotta be the ones who have her. The question is, why would they take her? They better not be experimenting on her. He'll have to put a bullet through every head, just like the undead he spent most of his life killing. Maybe he'll do it anyway. When he came home from work one day, he found the door broken open, many signs of a struggle, but they still got her. No ransom notes, nor blood. The anger in his eyes was strong, they can't just take her away like that. She's going to come home safe and sound. She has to. 

“The location has been sent to you, but you'll need to be careful getting down. There's likely going to be some form of security, definitely cameras. Keep your head down.” Hunnigan explains as Leon, Chris, and Rebecca gear up. Leon knew he couldn't do this alone, he needed his friends. Jill is on another mission, and Claire is traveling for TerraSave. Chris wasn't going to let him do this in the state he's in. Barely a wink of sleep, very little food in his system. He had to force him to do both just so he wouldn't kill himself. He can't save her when he's passed out on the ground. “Head to the warehouse, clear the area, and find the hatch. The rest I won't be able to help much with.” She finished explaining, earning a nod from Leon.

“Got it, thank you, Ingrid.” He says softly. Ingrid gives a hint of a smile.

“I care about her too, bring her home safely.” She states, pointing at them. Leon chuckles and gives a two finger salute. The three of them are off in no time, settling into Chris’s jeep before taking off. Rebecca looks through her computer for possible access to the cameras at the warehouse.

“It doesn't seem like there are many camera's underground, just in the warehouse itself. So I'm guessing there might be some muscle down there. Judging by some old files, their number of sales on the black market have increased by 40% in the last three months.” She explains to the men. Leon's leg bounces anxiously as he listens, Chris frowning as he thinks. 

“I just don't understand, what do they want with Y/n?” The muscular brunette asks. Rebecca hums and types for a couple of minutes before answering.

“My guess, using her knowledge as a biologist to build their newest experiment. Though I can’t seem to get through this inscription, so I won’t know for sure until we get there and see it for ourselves.” The professor explains.

________________

The echoes of men cheering down the hall caused a spike in her heart rate. The cold floor of the cell she’s on makes her shiver as she sits in only a dirty hospital gown and undergarments. Her hair is greasy, and knotted. She'd kill for a shower if she wasn't so weak. Y/n hugged her knees to her chest, the chains connected to her ankle making a clanking sound. Bruises and cuts litter her skin, all that fighting ended in such pain. She just wanted to be home, resting in bed with her soon to be husband. But those words from the fuckers that took her. They haunt her, every day she starts to believe them.

“He's not coming for you, doll."

“And even if he did, he won't love you.”

“You belong to us now.” 

She squeezes her eyes shut as she holds her head. Tears starting to prick her eyes for the hundredth time since she's been stuck here. Leon would never leave her like that. He loves her, he promised that when he proposed. “He's just having trouble finding me.” She mutters, but still; as time goes on, hope continues to fade.

____________

The ringing of gunshots caused her to wake with a start. She can hear shouting and footsteps all around. Y/n curls up and covers her ears, too afraid to even try to see what's happening. Could be friend or foe, but it's hard to tell at this point. All those torturous nights of scaring her into talk, forcing her to do tests. She's simply too tired to move, to think. She's not even sure she wants to live anymore. 

“Leon! Check all the cells! We have to get her out quickly if we're gonna blow this place.” A familiar voice called out, followed by footsteps nearing her cell. Why can't she remember that voice, and did he say Leon? As in her soon to be husband? Perhaps her mind is starting to play tricks on her. That little bit of hope left could be tricking her. 

However, the footsteps get louder. A shadow of a man draws closer, and she isn't sure what to do besides try to hide herself. When the footsteps stop suddenly, she peaks her head up slightly. A tall man, fairly muscular and sandy blond hair stands in front of her cell. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but they seem dull. As he sees her, his heart stops, breath hitches. It's her, his future wife. Y/n stares at him in disbelief, this definitely has to be a trick, that man looks just like Leon.

“Y/n..” The sound of her name was breathy, but it immediately made her feel a sense of comfort. His voice, deep and smooth, it's very soothing. Though she still can't be sure that her mind isn't playing tricks. She hugs herself tighter, shaking as he approaches slowly. He kneels down in front of her, worry and sadness clear in his eyes. He frowns and slowly reaches his hand out towards her face. A whimper escapes as she tenses, which only makes him feel worse.

“It's me, baby. It's Leon.” He says softly, managing to graze his fingers along her cheek. Her eyes widen, they look almost lifeless to him. They become glossy as tears quickly begin to pour. 

“You're- you're really.. here?” She asks quietly, earning a nod from the blond. The tears fall heavily down her cheeks as a loud sob racks her body. Leon quickly grabs her hands, trying not to let himself fall apart because he just can't. He has to be strong for her, he needs to get her to safety. Chris runs by and hears her cries, stopping in his tracks. He looks over and his eyes widen. He begins to step into the cell, noticing the chains. He then pulls out a set of keys that he collected from one of the guards.

“Leon, here.” He calls softly, giving him the keys. Leon looks back and smiles thankfully. “Where's Rebecca?” He asks, quickly unlocking the chains around Y/n’s ankles. 

“Grabbing the files so we can figure this out. Let's go, quickly.” Chris states before rushing out. Leon looks at his fiancee and cups her cheek. 

“Baby, I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? Just hold on to me.” He watches her head nod in acknowledgement before carefully lifting her up. She grabs his vest as he carries her bridal style, following where Chris went.  Her glossy eyes wander around tiredly as they move. Everything feels fuzzy, the sounds of gunfire become muffled. Even Leon's voice fades in and out, but when she realizes he's talking, she looks up at him slowly. He holds her close, realizing how pale she is. When they finally find Rebecca, she goes to Y/n to check on her. 

“We have to get her to a hospital. Now.” She states with a firm tone. The two nod and get what they need. Chris sets up some C4 in the computer room before they all rush out. Another group of guards enter the hallway, guns blazing. Leon takes cover, shielding her from harm, while Chris and Rebecca clear them out. Once they're all down, they run out to the warehouse and jump into the jeep. Leon looks down at his lover to see she's unconscious.

"Shit, Y/n!" He calls, trying to shake her awake, but she's out cold. He feels her neck for a pulse, luckily it's there, but faint. He shouts at Chris to hurry, and Chris detonates the bomb before speeding to the hospital.

Please be okay.

~~~~~~

A/N; Welcome to the first part of my first little series! Hope you enjoyed it, more to come soon!

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 53 - Galway Girl

Summary: Josie has another run in with the law which leads to another revelation. She reaches out to a Savior with the new info. Luke plays his violin. A beloved sassy Scotswoman stuns Josephine on her hunt for the innocent Scotsman. An Irish memory rattles Jo. She and Gerry have a HUGE discussion on many subjects. More comes to light about Megan's attack. Emotions go awry when Gerry learns the truth.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, mentions of drugs and rape

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Salem, Massachusetts

March 22, 2022

The revelation of your ex-fiance's non-infidelity had your mind spinning as you carelessly sped down the freeway, stiff as a board with a white knuckled grip on the wheel and trying not to puke. Over and over, just as you had done 3 years ago, you began dissecting all the events of that painful day when you had awoke to the life altering text that you believed to have been from Gerry. A fabricated text to incriminate him, making it look like he had accidentally sent it to you instead of your sister which put her diabolical plan of entrapment all into motion of deeming him unfaithful and it had worked like a fucking charm. Still etched in your mind as if it were only yesterday, was the look of horror on Gerry's face when you found him in bed with Megan. A look that you now saw in a whole new light and you were so lost in that image that you did not notice the cop parked on the berm of the road, pegging you at 82 miles per hour.

The startling sirens brought you back to the present which you didn't even know where that was at the time, for you had just experienced one of those blackout moments where you didn't remember driving from point A to point B and wondered how you even did it without causing a wreck. You didn't have your seatbelt on either which you didn't realize until after you pulled over.

In your side mirror, you nervously watched the grumpy looking policeman approach your car, wishing it had been Luke because this time, you knew you couldn't cry your way out of it with being almost thirty miles per hour over the speed limit. Was he seriously unsnapping his gun holster???

"License and registration." the officer robotically requested as you rolled your window down.

You fumbled through your purse, then the glove box and handed him the items without question or argument, just wanting to get the humiliating moment over with and go.

He looked over the documents and then eyed you as he asked the usual rhetorical question. "Do you know why I pulled you over miss March?"

"Speeding I assume."

His reply was cocky as car after car sped by, taking advantage of the situation. "You assumed correct. 82 in a 55. Also I see you aren't wearing your seatbelt which is a law in every state other than New Hampshire which you are not in and your tail light is busted out as well which is a non-moving violation and a ticketable offense."

"Wait, what? How did that happen?? Can I go look?"

"You will need to remain in your vehicle while I go back and write up this ticket."

As soon as he was back in his cruiser, you immediately texted Jeffrey.

"I think u were right! Someone was in that car. My tail light is busted out and it wasn't when I was putting my bags in the trunk!"

About 30 seconds went by and he then replied. "Thx for the 411 darlin. Been thinkin bout it more since you dropped me off. Stowaway POS. Prob followed us to the junk yard too. He's toying with us. Busted the light as a warning. Ballsy fucker bit off more than he could goddamn chew. I'll find him and when I do, well I think you know how that will turn out. In the meantime, your best off to stay close to Craig. Sorry bout your trouble, Trouble😉 When you got time, bring your sweet self and that sweet ride to the shop and I'll get that taken care of for you asap. Least I could do for pissin you off. Talk more then."

"Thank u!! I'll text u later to let u know when I can come."

"You're very welcome doll. You can cum anytime."

You huffed and shook your head at his remark and before you could reply, he texted right back.

"Oh damn! Old habits die fucking hard. Told you I'd piss on the floor every now and then. Sorry for the comment. My bad."

You smiled and softly chuckled. "I'll let it slide. At least you're trying. Talk later."

"You rock girl. Later."

Stay close to Craig. Great. Now you had to haul all your stuff back to your apartment instead of going to your mom's as planned... for the time being anyways. You couldn't bring more trouble to her. Megan would surely remain in the hospital for quite sometime anyways and your mom would most likely take up residency in her room. Would they even be safe there though? Elizabeth sure wasn't. You then anxiously texted Luke.

"Hey. Can u please put a guard at Megan's door??? Just to be safe."

His reply was instant and shocking. "Already working on that Jo. No worries. I'm heading there in a few to speak with her as well since I was informed she is awake. Everything ok? Still pissed at me?"

You wanted to be but you just didn't have the energy anymore. "Thank u Luke. For everything. I'm fine. I just want my mom and sister to be safe right now. Please keep me updated."

You wanted to tell him so bad about the bar thugs since they were after him to begin with but you couldn't now that he was a cop. You just didn't know if you could trust him after knowing the little bit you knew about his agent days with Lee. Your list of loyal peers was growing thin anymore.

"I see you've deflected on my last question. I'm sorry things have to be this way. I really am Jo. I'm just trying to turn my life around but all I seem to be doing is making everyone hate me even more. Maybe it was a mistake to even come back here. I wanted to try to fix things and all I do is fuck them up even more. Suppose there's no reform for someone like me. Who am I to be some judge and jury? I'm a loner. Always have been. Better off that way...for everyone involved."

Luke was doing it again and at the worst possible time. Removing the armor and showing his softer side and that was why it was hard to stay angry with him. Just like Lee, he had a sordid past and had been through some bad shit. Knowing what Luke Sr. did to both Luke and Landy, defiling his own sons, was beyond comprehension to you so you couldn't even begin to imagine how that felt for the two wayward brothers. As you stared at your phone, not knowing how to reply to the heart on Luke's sleeve, you nearly jumped out of your skin when the officer appeared at your window, ticket in hand.

"I see that you're the late detective Brady's sister. Good man. So tragic. I am sorry for your loss."

Thinking he may decide to let you off with a warning, you smiled and hoped for the best. "Yes, I am. Thank you. Our family misses him so much."

"Your family, yes. I also am aware that that makes you Jason Morgan's sister. Not a good man, but you know that. He almost took you to the grave with him and here you are, speeding round town like he did on the bike as if you're something special."

"Ex...cuuuse me??!!"

"No, I won't excuse you like you probably thought I was going to just because of your family ties to the precinct."

Oh how you wanted to go all Betty White on him like she did in Lake Placid and call him Officer fuckmeat and then continuing on with her other snarky line of if I had a dick, this is where I'd tell you to suck it, but you would certainly be arrested this time if you did.

"Yeah well, I'm also detective Butler's ex- finacee and we're still very close. I'll be sure to tell him about this."

"I can see why it's ex. Lady, I don't care who you are. There won't be any preferential treatment here. Don't break the law. It's really not that hard. Here's your ticket. Have a good day Ma'am."

He handed you your expensive ass ticket with a court date for the following week and walked away as you sat with a gaping mouth.

"Asshole!" you grunted after you rolled up your window, then finally you were on your way, but before you drove off, you quickly texted Lee to tell him you would come to the cemetery but that you would be late. You didn't mention why though. It had nothing to do with the traffic stop and everything to do with the whopper of a secret that Megan confessed. As far as a reply to Luke, he would have to wait.

You called Gerry as you pulled up to the gates of the Kiriakis estate, but once again, he did not answer so you punched in the code for entry that only very few had. Those without the free pass would have to go through the whole rigmarole of identity verification and approval to be buzzed through, for Victor's security was understandably high with being a man of his nefarious stature and corresponding life. He may as well have been considered a celebrity. Of course ALL the other crime families of Salem were like that too.

The property was enormous and endless, consisting mostly of forestry, open country-like land and bayside access surrounding the mansion and one that did not know it well could easily get lost. It took you almost 5 minutes just to drive up the pine tree-lined path to the main house and then another minute to get back to the two story guest house where Gerry resided on the bay which was only a fraction in size of the stately manor. Even though Victor's fancy fortress had as many rooms as a 5 star hotel, Gerry cherished his privacy and wanted nothing to do with all servant bullshit and the tiresome walking involved in getting from room to room...and of course, papa Vic's business dealings. If the reserved detective could live like a hermit in a surfing shack on the beach, he would, for he loved the water and he had actually built one not far from the guest house that you were surprised he hadn't moved into already. It was more of a trailer located where all the good waves were for surfing and if he wasn't doing that, he was working on cars, one of his favorite pastimes. Maybe that's where he had been when he wasn't at the hospital visiting his father?

Once you reached the guest home, there were two cars parked in the front and neither were Gerry's.

You deciphered at least one to most likely be the maid or gardener, for Victor was OCD on the cleanliness and beauty of his grounds. As for the other, no clue. Maybe he had a girlfriend now? That could explain why he wasn't answering your calls.

After parking by the garage, you peaked in the window and saw Gerry's truck inside, so you headed up to the porch and rang the doorbell. There was no answer so you rang it once more and then glanced through the small window panel to see the television on, but no one was there.

"Gerry???!!" you shouted and knocked aggressively. "It's me, Jo!"

Another minute went by and no one came to the door. "Alright. " you sarcastically rationalized out loud as you took out the key you still had. "If you can walk right into my mother's home, I can do the same here."

You crept inside and quietly closed the door, then made your way to the TV, turned it off and called to him once more. "Gerry! Are you here??"

In the silence, you heard the toilet flush from the bathroom around the corner and then the door opened.

"Hallo?" a woman's familiar voice loudly questioned and then in walked Gerry's mother, gasping as she covered her mouth.

"Josephine darlin, in the name of the wee man!" the petite Gaelic woman with salt and pepper hair exclaimed in her strong Scottish accent.

Ironically, her name was Margaret just like your mother's and they both shared a son with Victor. She even had fiery hair like your mother once upon a time which was possibly what attracted Victor to her aside from the identical names and similar accents. The only difference was, she went by Margie and your mother went by Maggie. Margie lived in the Scottish Highlands and rarely visited the states. Gerry had usually went to see her instead, for he didn't like her braving the big Scotland airports alone such as Glasgow and Edinburgh, so you were just as stunned to see her as she was you. She probably came to support her son over Victor's heart attack which now made sense as to why Gerry had fallen off the grid, but it still pissed you off that he couldn't have sent you a simple text instead of ignoring you.

"Margie?? Oh my God is right!"

In the shared excitement, you both bee-lined to each other and embraced. You had surely missed her, for she had always made you feel like a part of her family. She was so kind-hearted and compassionate with a side of Scottish sass and she adored you. Needless to say, she was just as heartbroken as you and Gerry were when you and he had went your separate ways.

"I had no idea you were here Margie. Sorry for just walking in. I rang the bell and knocked but..."

"Oh, I tried to hurry but I was in the cludgie doin my jobby. It's a wee bit bowfin in there, so I would wait awhile if ye need to pee. It might make ye greet." she warned with a grin and a wink, for it literally meant she was taking a very smelly shit, one that would make you cry. She was usually quite frank about everything.

"I haven't been able to reach Gerry lately. When did you get here?"

"About tree days ago. I told my boy I was coming and there was nothin he could do about it so he flew all the long way to Glasgow and swooped me up in the sky on that fancy Kiriakis jet so I wouldn't have to fly alone. Ye know my Gerard, stubborn as an ox just like his Da. Oh goodness it is so guid tae see ye! Are ye well my darlin girl? Ye know I will always think of ye as my daughter no matter whit's happened."

You smiled and held her dishpan hands. "Of course I will always see you as a mother figure and I've certainly had better days."

"Ye do look a wee bit peely wally and ye been greetin. Yer een are red. Dinnae fash yersel. I won't tell."

"Dinner...what?" you giggled. "Sorry, my Gaelic sucks."

"It means don't worry. Nothin to be sorry about. Look who ye learned it from! Although Gerry knows the Celtic tongue, he tends to haver in the lowland Scot's language." she snarked with an eye roll. "But I suppose, like yersel, no one would understand him around here. His accent has weakened too. He tries to emphasize it more when I'm around and he thinks I don't notice the change but I suppose if I saw him more, it wouldn't seem so drastic now would it?"

"No, I suppose not. How is Edward? He didn't come?"

Her infamous Scottish sass surfaced about Gerry's stepfather. "Oh that old numpty craw. The eejit is probably sittin on his arse with his tap aff, wearin his baffies and clyping to the neebs while sippin on his uisge. He didn't want to come and be a proper crabbit around Gerry, but we all know it's because he don't take kindly to Victor and wouldn't be caught dead in his home."

"Have you went to see Victor?"

"HA!" she guffawed and rolled her eyes again. "I don't give a radan's arse about the old bawbag either but let's keep that between you and me. I'm only here to use the rich bastard's free amenities and to be here for Gerry because only the good Lord above knows why he loves that menace to society."

There was another difference between your mother and Margie. Your mom loved Victor. Margie despised him because he could never get over your mother. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

"Well, I would say your secret's safe with me but it's not like Gerry don't know how you feel. Speaking of, where is he? And.... who's cars are out front? Does he have other guests?"

"If yer hinting around to see if Gerry has some manky hen hiding under his bed, that would be a flat out naw. The only hen in his heart will always be the bonnie lass I'm lookin at, his Galway girl. One of the cars is a rental Gerry got for me so I can come and go as I please. Somebody has got to get the messages around here. Wasn't enough scran for a luch to nibble on. The other is Brady's car, ye know, the son who's name is strangely the same as yer mum's maiden name? or maybe it's Phillip's car? I lose track of all Victor's offspring anymore. All I know is one of his half brothers is here. The skinny malinky long legs and a braw lookin fella there in that picture on the stand. Looks like my Gerard when he was a lad."

You picked it up and chuckled. "Ahh, that would be Phillip, the youngest one. They have the same slanted smile and dimples. Is that where Gerry is? With Phil?"

"Aye, sorry, I don't know where my mind went whit all my haverin. Jetlag has me knackered, sticks with ye longer when yer thairis air a 'bheinn."

You tilted your head at her like a confused puppy. She usually used more of the Scot's English for you but would forget when she was rambling and would blurt out her witty words the way she spoke to Gerry because it was simply what she was accustomed to with being from the highlands. You compared it to playing a game of charades on guessing what she meant.

"Oh sorry darlin. I did it again. It means when yer over the hill. Anyways, Phillip's upstairs sleeping off the lagair. He and Gerry were off their trolley last night after visiting their dunderheid da. Phil got the boke. Poor lad. His heid's mince. He hit a pure whitey come morn. I told him not to have so many swallies but he was determined to keep up with Gerry. My son is out on the docks, up to high doh on fixin the boat while suckin down more of the bevvy and still reefin on those clatty baccy fags, so I've been in here, scrannin ma wee pan in on some mince and tatties, which is whit sent me to the cludgie and I was goin to watch my stories when ye popped in."

She very indiscreetly glanced over your shoulder to see the TV. "Ye mak a better door than a windae. Go on now. Get yer bahookie out there and have yersels a blether. That's whit ye came here for now aye? Whit's fur ye'll no go by ye."

Her smile was devious. You knew she wanted you and Gerry to reconcile but you couldn't even think of things like that when you loved Lee the way you did, but you understood what she last said and you certainly believed it. What's for you will not go by you. There were always signs if you paid attention, which you always did.

With your stomach in knots, you slowly headed out down the lengthy dock where you could see the speed boat up on the lift with Gerry inside of it and you could hear his jeers too, swearing like the Scotsman he truly was.

The day had become dreich as Margie would say and it was getting colder too, even more so out on the water. It felt like a reflection of your emotions. The calm before the storm that was about to become a category 5 hurricane when you found the courage to tell Gerry of Megan's betrayal. Knowing him the way you did, he wouldn't believe it at first and you could already predict his words. Yer bum's oot the windae! Blatantly translated....you're full of shit.

Your phone beeped, causing your already shortened steps of rapidly growing cold feet to cease altogether. It was Lee responding to your text that informed him of your late arrival.

"I have already waited a lifetime for you. I can wait longer because you are worth every aching minute of delay. I will wait forever if I must, just to breathe in your presence."

How? How could any human being possess such power over you? To be able to stop and restart your heart all from one simple text? As you stood there, literally holding Lee's bleeding heart in your hands, you began to feel incredibly guilty for making him wait, especially because you had chosen to go to Gerry first and you knew he wouldn't understand. You didn't even understand.

Forcing down the urge to lean over the rail and hurl, you gripped your queasy stomach and continued on. The closer you got, music became audible. You halted your steps once more, gasping as the song flung you back in time to 5 years ago in Galway when your relationship with Gerry was shiny and new. It was all your eyes could see as you gazed at Gerry working in the boat.

You had been wanting to go back to your roots and he had made that happen for you by taking you to Ireland on the same jet he picked his mom up in. It took a lot of coaxing though to get you on the man-made bird, for that was how your father had died when his plane had went down, something you rarely spoke of. Doped up on anxiety meds and tucked in the safety of Gerry's arms like a baby bird had gotten you through the fear and before you knew it, you and he were in Galway, partying it up.

The song was Galway Girl. Gerry said it reminded him of you and one night at one of the local pubs, the dashing detective showed off one of his many other talents. Playing guitar and singing that particular and very popular song with some guys he used to be in a band with back in his youthful days...and he sang it to you as he strummed the acoustic chordophone and strutted his way through the overcrowded room, embarrassing the hell out of you and then to top that off, he grabbed you up in his arms and kissed you madly. But you loved it and you loved him. It was like no one existed that night but you and him. Everything was so different then. You and Gerry were different, right down to his clean shaven baby face and your red hair with bangs.

You could still feel that kiss, taste it even. Guinness Stout mixed with sweet cologne and salty sweat. You were so happy. He was so happy. You could have had it all, rollin in the deep as the song said. He had your heart inside of his hand and he played it to the beat, or so you had believed no thanks to Megan's malevolence. She ruined everything. If she hadn't, would you now be Mrs. Josephine March Butler? You momentarily glanced down at your ring finger where the glowing golden rock used to be that he proposed to you with. He chose it because it was his birthstone and it reminded him of your amber eyes. He said it proved you and he were born for one another and even with Gerry, you had believed in all the signs so you really took that one to heart, along with both of your mothers names being the same. When everything went to shit, you took that as another sign and even went as far as secretly blaming it on the fact that he was a Scorpio. Low compatibility with your sign, a Sagittarius. Water and fire. It was said to be a very challenging relationship which it eventually became even without Megan's interference. You had just needed some fucking reason to understand how Gerry could ever cheat on you and with your slutty sister of all people or even at all. Would you have ever even met Lee? What would have happened if you had? Because your connection with him was instant and extremely intense, like the striking and igniting of a match. Aries and Sagittarius. Fire meets fire. You literally burned for each other.

As the song ended, the silence brought you back to the present, still staring at Gerry who had now locked his widened blue eyes upon you. Watching him hop out of the boat and casually strut his way to you in a dark baggy tee and a pair of khakis, you resumed your steps and your breathing that you swore had also ceased during your involuntary time travel.

He looked back at the boat and then you. "She's being stubborn. Hope you didn't come for a boat ride."

The ridiculous attempt to downplay his ghosting of you was expected and typical of Gerry, as well as the adorably anxious smile he displayed.

Gerry knew damn well you couldn't swim and would never get in a recreational boat but you couldn't even muster up a snarky retort with the way you were feeling and he noticed it. You noticed something too as he laid the rag on the railing and asked you if you wanted a beer. He was wearing his wedding ring.

"N..no. I'm good." you softly and simply declined.

As he opened the mini fridge under the small kitchen island used for bay parties, he looked back at you with concern.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine Gerry."

He popped the cap off the Heineken and took a swig while staring at you. "You're good, you're fine. Ok. Then why do you look like you've been crying?"

"Why do you look like a bottle of whiskey kicked your arse? Where have you been Gerry? I've been trying to reach you and I know damn well you know that. Why couldn't you answer my texts and calls??"

"Not to evade questioning like you're doing or to be a prick but since when do I owe you any explanations about my life? Last time I checked, we were never married."

"Fair enough...but why are you wearing your ring??"

His lips parted as he glanced down at his hand with a baffled expression, for clearly he had forgotten about it.

"Ohhh...that. Yeahhhh. Phil and I got a bit minced on a few wee drams last night and I woke up wearing it and well...now it's kind of stuck. Fingers got fatter I guess."

"A few shots?" you snickered. "I know how liberal you Scots pour those. According to your mom, ya'll were oot yer tree... errrrr was it off yer trollie?"

Gerry face palmed and grinned, then he sighed as he sat down on the rail. "Both terms would be correct. Look Josie, I'm dealin with a lot. You know that. I got my Mum in there hovering over me as you now know. I got Phil's young, dumb and reckless arse in there to look after and Vic over there in the hospital, still not doing well and now there's you."

You both gazed at each other for a moment, knowing he was reading you like a book and you began to feel sick all over again about what you had to tell him. His eyes already held so much stress and exhaustion and you were about to make it ten times worse.

"Josie...why are you here? What's going on with you sweetness? I can see it in those gorgeous eyes that something's wrong."

He was killing you. Gerry always called you sweetness from day one but it's the first time he had used the term of endearment it in a very long time.

"What ISN'T going on? Like you, I'm being hit at every angle with a new fresh hell every 5 minutes."

"And....you came..to me? Why? Don't you have that pretty doctor to bandage all your wounds?"

Your eyes instantly welled up. "You know what? This was obviously a mistake. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

As you spun around to leave, Gerry leaped off the rail and grabbed your hand, pulling you back. "Wait, wait...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I..I'm just not used to you coming to me for anything or even talking to me much at all for that matter and now here you are, out of nowhere and...."

Gerry paused as he intensely peered down into your glistening eyes. He was still clinging to the littlest bit of hope that someday you would want him back and he couldn't help but wonder if that's why you were there.

His thumb softly caressed the top of your hand as he still held it. "Talk to me baby. Did...did he...hurt you in some way?"

There he went, reading you again like a psychic with that annoying intuition of his. Gerry was certainly meant to be a cop.

"Just stop!" you cried, yanking your hand from his and turning away from him as you softly sobbed. "I am NOT going to talk to you about Lee, so just stop Gerry. Please just stop."

"It's very clear that I'm right but I will respect your wishes."

His then laid a gentle hand upon your shoulder. "But you're crying and you know what that does to me. Did my mum say something to you? I know she tends to overstep...."

You turned, eyes closed as you sighed, then forced them up to his. "No, she was actually more subtle about you and me this time. God, I'm just so fucking frazzled right now."

"I can see that. Ok, take in deep breath, hold it for a second and then just let it go. Here, I'll do it with you, come on. 1, 2..."

"Gerryyyy...that doesn't work." you whined with an eye roll.

"No, don't argue with me. Just do it. One more time, 1...2...3."

On his count of three, you just began blurting things out. "First off, there's how many experienced cops at the Salem P.D. with murder cases and you left that egotistical rookie partner of yours in charge of Elizabeth's case. Does no one realize it's a conflict of interest?? Luke and Lee are at each other's throats over their own issues so HOW is this fair to Lee being a person of interest when Luke's the investigating officer??!! And let's not forget a little girl is missing and it's all my fault! This is one of the reason's I have been trying to reach you because you can be objective and get shit done and speaking of cops, I got pulled over on the way here by Officer over the fucking hill for speeding and he was rude and mean and insulted me all because Jason's my brother, oh and someone busted my fucking tail light out and rusty water keeps coming out of the faucets!!!"

Gerry's response was of simple surprise as he stared at you, lips ajar. "Wow."

"That's it? Wow??"

"Well Josie, there's all kinds of bad shit in this county going on and we only have so many cops who are on pre-existing cases, not to mention the huge drug shit going on so I felt Luke could handle this while I got my shit together since he's highly qualified and all and no, I was not aware of the personal conflicts with him, but now I am and I'll look in to it. I'm sorry I've been distant but I really didn't think I was needed in your life anymore. Bring your car out to the trailer tomorrow if you want and I'll fix it but as far as your plumbing problem, isn't that your mobster landlord's responsibility?"

"Hilarious Gerry. Craig is not a bad guy. His daughter is missing so don't start in on him like you always did Jason who also isn't a bad person like that cop called him and I'm not going to ask Craig to fix my shower when it isn't even broken."

"But you just said..."

"It's not the plumbing. Just never mind. You wouldn't believe me if I told you and that doesn't really matter right now so forget I said anything."

Gerry looked at you with skepticism. "Ok. But what did you mean by isn't?"

"Huh?"

"You said Jason isn't a bad person. Don't you mean wasn't?"

Oh god. You DID say that and you needed to do damage control real fucking fast because this wasn't the first time you had almost let it slip that Jason was alive and Gerry was too damn smart. You hated lying to him but Jason would tell the world his secret when he was ready. In the meantime, you hoped he would find Ethan sooner than later and especially Blaise, but you hadn't a single clue what your undead brother was even doing or where he and Britt were. Did Jason even know what happened to Megan?

"Of....course I meant wasn't Gerry. It was an accident. He's only been gone close to 2 months now. Still don't seem real." you sniffled and wiped the corner of your eye for good measure.

"Alright. I get it. Sorry. Guess I'm still in cop mode and speaking of, so this cop that pulled you over. What's his name?"

"I...I don't know?"

"You got the ticket on you?"

You dug into your purse. "Yeah. Here."

Gerry stood looking it over and then his eyes popped as he chuckled. "82 Josie? Really? Where was the fire? All of this was that important to get here? Anyways, I know this prick."

He crumpled the pink paper up without a care and chucked it into the water. "There. No more ticket."

"Gerry...what are you doing??! I need that!"

"Not anymore you don't. I'll make it go away. One problem solved."

You knew he could too. You just didn't want to ask him to. "I..you...you would do that for me? I mean, with you being all by the book and stuff, no matter who it is?"

"I think you know you're an exception to that rule. I would do anything for you, especially if I can in some way make up for all the pain I caused you."

Your stomach twisted. You couldn't put it off much longer. The truth about Megan.

"Can you make everything else go away too? Lee didn't hurt Liz and he certainly didn't kill her. Please tell me you believe that."

"I've done my research on Lee and no, I don't think he attacked or offed his ex. Honestly JoJo, I think it could be someone else who Elizabeth pissed off which according to Luke's reports, was quite a muckle amount of people, even including you but of course I know that's not the case. I'm leaning more towards someone who wants us to believe Lee did it since he does have quite the motive, but again...I don't feel it was him. Things just don't add up. I think someone was more pissed off at Lee than Elizabeth."

Gerry didn't suspect you but someone certainly tried to make it look that way by planting all that stuff in Lee's car, but you couldn't tell Gerry about that and now your thoughts swirled like a twister, sucking in every person with means and motive to hurt the two of you. Someone who knew Lee's routines.

"Well, there's a large list of those people too. Ethan will always be my first guess. He hates me and that Lee chose me and not him and we all know what he's capable of. Then there's Angel, Lee's neighbor. Another jealousy, woman scorned thing and there's that Carpenter guy. I mean, you witnessed his rage at Lee and there's even..."

You paused, feeling guilty for even thinking it, but your priority was to always protect Lee, no matter who you had to throw under the bus. "There's...your new partner...Luke. Something happened years ago between them Gerry and I don't know what that was but I do know it was really bad and the two of them, as I said, are not getting along. I just think you don't know everything about Luke and I know I don't either, but from what I've seen and from what I DO know, he has a violent streak in him, especially if provoked. Just like his brother Ethan and maybe Luke is using this cop thing to his advantage?? I mean, he was WSB for christ's sake and..."

Gerry shook his head. "Stop. Stop."

But you didn't stop. "No Gerry! Is it really that far fetched?? He's smart as hell. He can easily hide things he don't want people to know. Trust me."

So could Lee for that matter, but you were way past ever thinking it was him and would forever regret that the thought had ever crossed your mind just like the guilty person wanted it to.

"Or maybe he's just doing his damn job. So let me get this straight. You think a former WSB agent is now a dirty cop and my partner at that, just to seek some kind of revenge on his once good friend."

"I..I don't know! It's possible yes?? He knows Lee inside and out."

"I'm smart as hell too and would like to think I am damn good at what I do and the fact that you're standing here implying that I wouldn't see right through a conspiracy like that is rather insulting. I'm telling you Josie, it's not Luke. Until you can give me something concrete as to why Luke would want to hurt Lee, you need to drop it."

"Ok fine. Maybe it's not to hurt Lee? Maybe it was FOR Lee. Luke hated Liz too for what she did to Lee."

"You know, you're definitely right about one thing. Luke is too close to this and needs pulled from the case. With that said, I think you're forgetting a few others with motive to kill Nurse Webber. I mean...let's not forget her ex-husband who she kept his own daughter from, or so called daughter I should say since he believes Blaise to be Ethan's and if that turns out to be true, it's really damn good motive on his part to off her and let's also not forget his line of work, so there's that."

"Nope. Stop it Gerry. Craig did not do it. Leave him alone already. He wouldn't do that to his daughter no matter how much he despised Liz."

"You seem so sure of that and oddly protective of him. What's that all about?"

"None of your business. Now who else? You said a few others."

"Ok, but you aren't going to like it."

"WHO!" you snapped.

The name that came out of his mouth made your skin crawl. "Peter. He's been making some noise lately from within that 6 by 6 of his."

"W...w...what?" you softly stammered in fear.

"I wasn't going to tell you this but out of the blue, he's been demanding to get word to you to come see him and he won't say why, which I think we all know is because he knows about you being with Lee. The warden let me know about it and I've made sure any letters he sends out with your name are never sent."

You shuttered inside. "Just like he sent letters to Britt, wanting her to give them to me."

"She didn't did she? I was under the impression she loathed her sadist brother."

"She does and no. I never saw the letters and I don't want to talk about Pe..." you sighed, unable to even say his name. "Why are you bringing him up?? You're in good with this warden. Get him to put him in solitary confinement where he belongs, like he did to me!!"

"I'm sorry. I said you wouldn't like it. I know what he did to you, kidnapping you and locking you in that morgue drawer. I was there and saved you remember? Or you would have suffocated and believe me, if I could shut him up, I would, but I can only do so much. I'm bringing him up because we all know he has extreme jealous tendencies and access to people on the outside. I think you know where I'm going with this. If he wants to get to you or Lee, he can."

You wanted to tell Gerry so bad what you knew about Lee's past with Luke involving Peter aka Sam Colin and how Lee was using that alias because Luke told him to, but you just couldn't. You trusted Gerry with your life but not Lee's.

"Yeah, I do. He could easily set Lee up to get him away from me which is WHY his communication needs to be revoked!! He's not only the son of an infamous terrorist, but he's one himself and he shouldn't have the privileges he has Gerry! Besides that, do you really think it's his style to frame someone?? He's more of the eraser type.''

"Then why isn't Lee dead already? Peter is his father's son yes, but he wasn't raised by him, only that other whack job son of his was, Charles Rane, who got blown up across the pond years ago."

You felt sick again, because it was Lee who caused that explosion, killing the Rane of terror. If you only knew what happened. The entire story. You would bet money Peter knew. So did Spinelli from intercepting those letters from Peter to Britt. And of course, Jason knew. If only you had listened to his and Lee's entire conversation instead of interrupting them, maybe you would know the truth.

"Does that make Peter any less dangerous?" Gerry continued. "No, but I had been after Cesar for so long and the two couldn't be more different. You should know since Faison was going to kill you the night you got shot, which not to defend Peter, but he meant to hit his father, not you, in an attempt to save you. Cesar eliminates his threats. Peter toys with them. The sadistic fuck likes to watch people suffer. Big difference."

"I swear if you say his name one more time!! And yeah, I know the difference. It's the real reason, which you already know, that my anxiety issues arose and why I'm claustrophobic and scared of the dark and storms! You have no idea what thunder sounds like inside a cold metal box. But in shame, I tell everyone, even Lee, it's because Megan locked me in a crawl space during a storm when we were kids, which was true, but that never damaged me the way that monster did. I...I couldn't fucking breathe. I could still smell the chloroform and I can still see the darkness all around me, stealing my breath like the grim fucking reaper and hear the echoes of my own cries as I called out for you."

"I know...and Peter claimed he was hiding you from his father because you were my girlfriend and Faison would kill you if he found you. Maybe I should go visit the piece of shit because now I'm angry all over again and want to rip his minging heid aff!!"

There was the full blown Scottish accent and you hadn't even told him about Megan yet. "Well maybe someone in prison will get to him first, shank him over and over and over or slip some rat poison in his coffee or something. I bet you could arrange that."

"Haud yer wheesht! What's gotten into you Josie? Just because you're Jason's sister doesn't mean you have to act like him."

"Now YOU haud yer wheesht!"

"I will when you stap yer haverin!"

Your lips pursed and you went to riposte, but Gerry's phone rang. "Saved by the bell. Guess Luke's ears were ringing. I gotta take this. He fills me in from time to time."

As Gerry walked away to talk privately, you went to the sink for a glass of water. Your eyes were on him, trying to listen as you turned the faucet on but he was purposely whispering. Your hand became wet as the glass overflowed and when you looked down, your hand was stained with red water.

"Gerry!!!" you screeched and dropped the glass in the sink, shattering it.

"I'll call you later!" Gerry barked and ran to you. "Fuck Josie, did you cut your hand? Here baby, let me see it!"

"It's not blood Gerry. It's the water!! This is what I told you about! First at Dave's, then at my place and now here. I...I don't know what the fuck is happening. It's like some supernatural sign or an omen or something. Gerry, I feel like something bad is going to happen."

His eye dropped from yours and he became silent as he dried your hand off with a towel.

"Gerry? W..what's wrong? What did Luke tell you??"

He threw the towel down and grabbed another beer. "When were you going to tell me about Megan being kidnapped and attacked?"

"I...I was going to. We were just, you know, talking about all this other stuff and I got distracted. That's all."

"Luke's at the hospital now and asked me if I could find a guard and..."

"You need to! Because I don't think she was expected to be found considering where she was at. Did he speak to her? What did she say? Because she told me and mom she couldn't remember anything just before it happened and during, just that she remembered Dave finding her and...Gerry...she said she feels like it wasn't Ethan but...I don't believe that. She's either scared to rat him out or it's just the trauma."

"Or it's the drugs they found in her system compromising her memory. Her blood panel showed traces of Rohypnol in her system. It's a roofie."

"Oh my god...."

"That's...not all Josie. They uh...they did a rape kit on her and..."

"No...just...no. Tell me she wasn't."

"I...I can't. I'm sorry Josie. Luke said she don't remember it but she was so distraught from the results of both tests that they had to sedate her."

Your eyes burned with tears as your heart began to pound. "M..mom...what about my m...mom?"

"Luke's staying with her for awhile. Still think he's a cold blooded killer?"

"I...I don't know what to think anymore. Gerry...there's more...and it involves you. I need to get this out. It's the entire reason I came here."

"Why do I feel like I'm the one who's not going to like this now? What is it Joey? Oot with it."

You drew in a deep breath like he told you to do earlier, then exhaled long and hard. "Ok. Here it goes. After speaking to Megan today, she decided to do some kind of conscience cleanse and...she...she claims that you and she...never slept together. That she set you up to hurt me."

Gerry turned around with an incredulous sigh, placed his palm on his forehead for a moment, then turned back to you with his mouth hanging open.

"What? Yer bum's oot the windae." he exclaimed, exactly as you predicted he would and still in shock, he questioned again. "What?"

"It's not nonsense Gerry. Trust me, I didn't believe it at first either, but...her demeanor and how she cried her eyes out...it's true Gerry. She admitted to drugging you and even wearing my perfume to get you excited, but the drugs and the alcohol only ended up knocking you out, so she sent me that text from your phone, then took your clothes off and hers and climbed into bed with you, waiting for me to show up the next morning. It was all a fucking set up Gerry because she was jealous of me. I...I'm so sorry." you cried. "I..I...should have known better...I should have believed you when you said something didn't feel right...I..."

And here it came. The blow up you dreaded.

"That clatty cunt!!! Are you fucking kidding me??!! Oh karma sure bit her in the arse now didn't it eh??!! JEE-sus Mary and Joseph what the fuck is wrong with that girl??!! She should be in a fucking mental institution. I cannot even comprehend this right now. She..she ruined everything for us and for what?? Just to make you suffer?? And don't you dare stand here and blame yourself. I wouldn't have believed me either! She's going to fucking pay for this, so help me God."

"Well, as you said, she's already getting her karma."

"Ohhh hell no. She's going to get MY karma. Why am I the only one that's losing my shit here??!! She destroyed us Josie!! My god, did it ever cross your mind that we might still be together and even married?? You would be wearing the rings that go with the one I'm wearing right now!"

"That's ALL that has crossed my mind Gerry!! I'm supposed to be somewhere else right now but I came here. It's why I got fucking pulled over. I kept spacing out with the memories. I literally kept seeing the look on your face when I found you with her and it hurts like hell, all of it and then I get here and you're playing that damn song and my mind went back to those memories too and then I see you with that ring on and...and...and...I...god Gerry...I'm so confused!!"

He finally calmed down and started a conversation that you knew he would but were in no way prepared for. "Why? Why are you confused? My god, I'm innocent sweetness. Does this mean anything to you now? Does it...change...anything? Because nothing has ever changed for me except losing you. I still love you as much as I did then, if not more and..."

"Gerry...please don't."

He came up to you, face to face, pleading his case. "Don't what?? I never fucking cheated on you baby. I never could. That's why it never made any sense and you and me, being apart never made any sense. Do you not feel anything at all for me anymore? Is it really all gone? Because we were crazy as hell for each other and I know I'm not wrong about that. I mean, look what we had. We had a beautiful life. I know we had been through shit after you were shot, with the whole children thing, but we made it through that. We worked hard for what we had. Let's put some more gas in the tank."

"Gerry...I...I'm with Lee now, you know that and I..."

"Are you? Because I'm looking right at you standing here in front of me. Is that where you're supposed to be right now? But you're not, are you? You came to me. You could have waited to tell me all this. What was one more day of letting me feel the agony of losing the best damn thing that's ever happened to me? You couldn't. You couldn't do it. You had to come tell me right away and why? Because it fucking matters to you. I...matter to you, even now, after all this time, even after you moved on with someone else."

"Of..of course it matters to me Gerry! And no, I didn't want you to suffer anymore, not even for one more day..."

He stepped right up against you and placed his large hands on your cheeks, his face merely inches from yours, his warm beer breath showering your lips. "I...matter to you. Say it Josie. Tell me I still matter. Tell me you feel nothing for me anymore. Tell me you don't still love me, not even a little bit."

Tears raced out of your eyes and over his hands as your lips began to quiver. "I...I...Gerry please sto..."

His lips took yours with a fierce passion like he did on the dance floor that night in Galway and you found yourself succumbing to him like you did on the dance floor that night in Galway. The familiarity of his taste, the way his lips moved, the way they felt, the way HE felt all came flooding back to you and you couldn't pull yourself away.

@redeemer46

[icystorm76]

Lauren’s commentary

I’m forcing my sister to watch IWTV and her commentary is genuinely hilarious. She accused me of posting her comments somewhere, then gave me permission to do exactly that. So here you go, her comments on episode 3. (She’s never read the books)

About Raglan James

“Is he a vampire? Is he Vampire ex boyfriend?(When asked why she thinks that) “He seems the type, you know? Like he would judge them then sleep with them.” (I reiterate that she’s never read the books, I guess Daniel just radiates vampire fucker vibes. She just guessed the completely wrong guy)

“Why is he trying to be on the phone? Is he actually one the phone? What is he doing? Oh shit, I missed something, rewind”

“Are you posting my commentary somewhere?” (I am now, lol)

“Hehehe, raglan”

“I can’t see what he’s writing! Milf? Is that what he wrote?”

In the library with Armand

“OH MY GOD HES FLOATING”

“Do you think he has nudes on that computer?”

“I know they’re vampires but does their architecture have to be so brutalist?”

“His bone structure is snatched. I hate his eyes though”

“Of course YOU do” (In response to me saying I like the eyes)

Paris (Armand’s narration)

“OH MY GOD, did he turn Lestat”

“So he’s into bondage?”

“There are laws?!”

“So he has fire powers”

“Hehe, you’re ugly and I hate you, fuck off and die abuser” (she’s not a big fan of Lestat)

“Boo, tomato tomato tomato!”

“The only thing I like about Lestat is his voice”

“Are all vampires gay?”

“Hehehe, the way he’s standing there.”

*Awful French accent* “LeSTOT!”

“Ah, so the abused becomes the abuser. You’re perpetuating bad stereotypes there”

“Oh god Lestat, I hate you. Where Louis?”

“Armand and Lestat, sitting in at tree A-b-u-s-i-n-g. First comes hitting, then comes throwing, then comes dropping Louis out of the sky!”

“Yep, still hate him”

“Oh he cray cray”

“You know what? I hate both these people and they deserve each other”

“Oh my god Lestat you messy bitch”

“Diabolical!!!”

“Ewww, get a room”

Paris (with Louis and Armand)

“Hell yeah, welcome back Pookie”

“I fucking hate him. How do you like these people?”

“How have they now been hatecrimed yet? Like come on guys! I’ve lost faith in Paris’s homophobia” (My sister is a lesbian btw)

“He can read your thoughts Buddy”

(When Lestat starts singing) “AH AH AH PAUSE IT *full body contortions as off possessed by Saten* I didn’t think it was possible to have a physical reaction to an Ick. Oh my god I had a full body reaction to that. I feel violated. I feel really and truly violated.”

“LeTHOT”

“OH MY GOD IM CHOKING. WHAT IS THAT ANGLE”

“No, because the images of Lestat looks like those cameras that make you look like you’re walking on a really tiny world”

“Why is this episode called No Pain. All they do is give each other pain”

“Pause it, no stop, rewind. You’re at a 10, I need it to not exist. LeTHOT, what are you doing? I’m so disappointed. I mean, I knew this was a show about the awareness of Stockholm syndrome, but I didn’t know it would this bad. Every day I walk outside and I think life is great then I come back inside and you make me watch tho shit. I need you to get your lips off of him. I don’t think I can continue”

“This using, love, OH, thank you, keep going, this is better than porn” (while Louis is murdering “Lestat”)

“OH, Real Rashid, by babe!”

“There’s so many files”

“They have a curfew?!”

“You mean the one where Lestat abused you? Because it kinda seems like Armand is going to do the same”

“They got that at home goods, didnt they?”

“Oh, wow. but Daniel’s not a Vampire, so he doesn’t count”

“Uh, wellllllllllllllll”

“Side note, I love that the vampires can’t age but you can tell Louis’ getting older because he parts his hair like a balding middle aged man”

“Thought that when they kissed that it would be like that scene in despicable me 2 when their noses bumped and stopped them from kissing”

[theconstantsidekick]

no because, supernatural is absolutely a train wreck. it's a colossal accident that is happening in front of you that you can't look away from. it is homophobic and non-sensical and downright laughable at times but you know what? I love it. I absolute love it.

season 1 was absolutely beautiful. you don't understand, really, you don't. they had a piss poor budget, you can see that in every frame. but does that stop it from being fucking beautiful? no. it is stylised and ambitious and a fucking visual treat.

and this is like the first fucking episode. the shots have so much character! and that's nothing to say of the characters themselves. from the first fucking scene you can clearly distinguish sam and dean's character clear as day. their motivations, their dreams, their hopes, all of it. it's established so well. their dynamic is unmatched. does it also have a lot of garbage? yes for sure. because what in the name of hell was that episode with bugs? what glue were they sniffing when they green lit that one? no seriously... I wanna try some.

but then they recovered, cause they did faith. my god, what an episode. WHAT AN EPISODE. that motherfucking reaper haunts my every waking hour

like yeah, I love me some baby dean and baby sam going on their small scale ghost hunts while learning deep lessons about who they are as people and what they want from life.

also that 'laugh I nearly died' needle drop? where sam sees jess? god tier editing, GOD TIER.

then they came back with season 2. and here is my most controversial opinion that should not be controversial at all, season 2 is the best season of supernatural to ever supernatural.

what is and what should never be, hollywood babylon, heart, nightshifter, and the whole fucking season actually. not a single miss in my humble opinion. and that finale? THAT FINALE. beautiful, magnificent. ground breaking character writing, everything comes full circle while simultaneously opening up new plot lines to explore.

and my god, yellow eyes is an epic villain. he is a very viciously written villain like, he's... my god. it ain't a walk in the park writing villains, believe you me patient readers, villains are harder to write than the protagonists, always. well, at least the compelling ones are.

now season 3 suffered because of the writer's strike, but didn't miss much either. like yeah some of the hits don't hit as hard as the season 2, but hey, mystery spot, time is on my side, ghostfacers, bedtime stories are nothing to laugh about. those episodes are fucking solid, like most of the season. and there is so much raw emotion is sam's need to save dean, it just makes my weak winchester brothers loving heart throb a little too hard. also...

need I say more?

does the show did look little more washed out and boring? yes. but it's cool, cause we're moving on to season 4.

listen, I kinda just wanna leave all my season's critique at this. i mean, yeah this. this is it. this is the long and short of it; castiel. i don't think i need to get anymore into it

so season 5 is just—

i'm kidding. obviously i'm gonna talk about season 4, at length.

listen, being able to introduce angels this late in the game and then have them be a such perfectly hidden players is a masterstroke of genius. it just is. i am a writer guys... apart from the relentless fanfic as well lol. and when i tell you, introducing a new big player which is also (not so) secretly the next big bad and playing it off as smoothly as they did in season 4, is beyond hard. but the biggest home run these fuckers hit is castiel and the best part is they weren't aiming for a one lol. and oh oh, the way they use their very VERY limited budget to show wings with just flashing the fucking light? CINEMA! that's fucking cinema right there man. i work on film sets, i am telling you, this is the smartest filmmaking choice they make on the entire show. it adds so much visual intrigue while being so awfully easy to execute. BRILLIANt.

now i cannot talk about supernatural without talking about the deancas romance of it all, which i understand not everyone can see or wants to, which is fine. to each their own. you consume art the way you want to, i don't care much as long as you can acknowledge that castiel and dean's friendship was just some of the best written television that mankind has ever seen. is that too grand a statement? yes. does that make it any less true? no.

they even brought back the moody lighting.

and then there's the episodes this season, most of which are home runs in their own regard. just like beautiful writing, the character development for cas, for dean, for sam, even the late john winchester is wild. anna is a wonderful addition, so is uriel, and alastair? they don't make villains like him anymore, they just fucking don't. AND THAT GODDAMN PLOT TWIST AT THE END? man! the finale was just... too good. Chuck's introduction is absolutely wonderful, even if they ruin him by the end but that happens a decade later so wtv, who cares? But,,,, Jimmy. Fucking. Novak. That's all. that's the tweet. yeah. i'm gonna end the season 4 fan fair with jimmy.

moving to season 5.

subjectively speaking, this is my fucking favorite. this season is a writer's dream while also being their goddamn nightmare. so many WONDERFUL characters to play with and such a grand plot but you get to see it all on a very small, consumable scale which is just... it's too smart for me to not mention. i won't start naming the plot points and neither will i name my favourite episodes because what even is the point? all of it was fucking perfect. you don't understand how hard it is to develop characters to such an extent that they become so familiar to the audience that they know their next move before you even put it on the screen. and supernatural had that. they tied everything together with so much care and consideration, just... AAAH so good.

a special shoutout goes to endverse!cas, crowley and death this season. you all know it in your bones that those three were just the absolute scene stealers. especially death's introduction... immaculate.

they did lose a few points for not being as aesthetically pleasing as the past few seasons but hey, gabriel was enough to make a smooth recovery.

but this... this is the end of the road for me people. season 5 is where it should have ended. in no way shape or form am i saying that there aren't a few good episodes here and there after this, because there are. i think season 5 was so fucking solid, tied up so many goddamn lose ends and then just put a cute little hell shaped bow on top and i just... yeah. this was and should have been the end of the road. do not get me wrong, i love me some jack kline, charlie bradbury, kevin tran, rowena macleod and eileen lahey but were they worth the bullshit ending i had to sit through? not really.

i absolutely think if there weren't more episodes of supernatural I would never have become a destiel fan, because i started shipping them when dean made cas a mixtape in season TWELVE! but my god, the good times were so scattered amongst the horseshit that even when i found those hidden gems, they were so fucking drenched in the stink that they lost their value.

the worst of it all is that, i cannot explain to you what supernatural means to me in a million words, because it is a part of me, heart and soul. i fucking AM castiel. i am a gay little angel you hear me? i love this show. i do. i'm glad it went on for however long it did but i feel like once in a while i need to write shit like this or read shit like this to remind myself of the show that it used to be. of it's beautiful cinematography, of it's clever little storytelling techniques. of it's wonderful cast. of how epic their song choices used to be.

FUcking RENEGADE? iconic. wanted, dead or alive? cannot hear the song without hearing sam's off tune goat bleating that he called singing along.

i need to remind myself of how afraid i used to be of lucifer. of how much i cried while watching dark side of the moon; when dean and sam burst the crackers, and how i learnt the lyrics to knocking on heaven's door just because of that scene.

sometimes i just have to walk through memory lane and look back at gabriel's death, the good one, the only one. it was so fucking meaningful. i have to think of "we are making it up as we go" to be able to breathe properly because those moments were so fucking beautiful.

fuck the big ones, i even remind myself of the small ones, of dean's handwriting being in all caps, just like him. of sam's fucking huge laptop with that weird blue black sticker in the middle. of castiel's tie, that just was the right shade of blue, and hung all wrong but just naturally enough to add so much more to his character than any fucking dialogue could. every small little detail of supernatural that made it so damn supernatural. i miss it all.

idk. i'm rambling. whatever.

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

Oooh a drabble or oneshot inspired by the song where you belong by The weeknd, with lloyd hansen. Theme: Jealousy....what do ya think?

I loved writing this. Thank you. Sorry it's taken so long, my life seems to have gotten rather busy lately. Hope you enjoy x

Where You Belong... Lloyd Hansen x reader - sequel to Better Believe It

Warnings: 18+ readers only, swearing, oral (f-receiving), fingering, hand job, sucking on titties, manhandling, public sex? Sex on a desk, unprotected sex (wrap it), use of daddy, nicknames (baby girl, baby boy, baby, sunshine, angel), slight angst, jealous!Lloyd, appearance by Jake Jensen, guns

I feel the blood rushin' throughout ya body

You see the scars painted over my skin

I'm always numb to the topic of loving

I fell in love with the subject of sin, oh

I don't have to remind you, oh, oh

It's my need to confine you, oh, oh

I see your face every time I'm with somebody else

Can't you see that I want you?

I don't have to remind you, oh, oh

Oh, whoa-ooh, woah, oh

Where you belong

Lloyd was pouting. And the longer he sat in his car outside of your computer repair store watching you through the window as some nerdy-looking fucker flirted with you, he pouted even more. Lloyd never pouted, unless he wasn't getting his own way, and then he pouted like a little boy being told no. And right now all he wanted to do was march right up to you and fuck you over the counter that you were leaning on, in front of the nerd and claim you as his. But you weren't his. You had been a way to pass the time and a way to take his frustration out, but that had ended months ago. Well, two months, a week and four days ago, not that he had been keeping track since you left him. Two whole weeks of devouring your cunt whenever he pleased, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you provided to be the best way to keep his mind from exploding as he tried to complete his mission.

"So... You wanna stick around for a while, angel?" Lloyd asked and pressed a kiss just behind your ear. His moustache tickling your sensitive skin.

You gave a tired hum. "Depends. You gonna fuck me like that if I do?"

Lloyd chuckled and pushed himself up so he was over you. "Oh, sunshine," He said with a shit-eating grin. "You better believe I'm gonna fuck you silly."

A smirk curled at your lips as you wrapped one arm around his broad shoulders and wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard cock making him moan. "Then I'm all yours." You pressed your lips against his as you gave his cock a soft squeeze around the shaft.

Lloyd began humping your hand as your tongues fought for dominance. He reached up with his left hand and wrapped his hand around your throat giving it a squeeze making you moan and pause momentarily, allowing Lloyd to take control.

He pulled back with a smirk. "I'm going to fucking ruin you, Sunshine."

It had been you to ruin him. Usually, women never got under his skin, but you had bewitched him from the moment you met. You were perfect.

"I need to go home, Lloyd... Jake, called... something about a bug on a corporate company's software and he needs my help. I'm sorry."

At first, when you informed him you had to return home, he was more disappointed than heartbroken. He'd be losing the best pussy he's ever had, but he had always known eventually it was going to happen. You and he were just some 'vacation' fun, nothing more. But as those two months, one week and four days began to pass, he realised that it may have been just more than 'vacation' fun for him and he was missing you more than he first thought he might. That's when he decided to go out and find someone else to fuck, but he found it was only your face he wanted to see in the midst of pleasure. It was your moans and touches he was craving not that of a stranger.

Lloyd's nostrils flared and his hands gripped the steering wheel tight as he watched you wrap your arms around the guy's neck and kiss his cheek before wandering off out of sight. Lloyd glared at the guy as he watch you walk away with a smirk. Lloyd let out a heavy breath through his nostrils as he opened the door and got out, slamming it shut behind him. His hands balled up into fists as he marched across the street towards your store.

The sound of the door being kicked open in the other room startled you from your work. You raised your head and peered over your shoulder towards the black curtain that separated the back room and the front of the store from each other as you listened to the commotion out front. It sounded like Jake was arguing with someone.

You stood up and walked towards the curtain, only to jump back with a gasp as it was thrown open. Your eyes widened in surprise, "Lloyd?"

Lloyd smirked at you. He closed the gap between you, crashing his mouth against yours as he pulled you into his body. You could faintly hear Jake talking but you were preoccupied with Lloyd's tongue in your mouth and his hard cock pressing against your thigh to care. Your arms wound around Lloyd's neck as you moaned into Lloud's mouth, and waved Jake away. You let Lloyd guide you backwards until you were pressed against your desk and his firm body.

He pulled back from you with a grunt and turned to face Jake as he pulled a gun out of his jacket and pointed it at him. "I've told you once, get the fuck out, kid." He growled. You shivered at his tone feeling yourself get hot and bothered.

Jake's mouth fell open in shock before he looked at you with a frown. "Y/n, tell your pornstar to stop being mean to me."

Lloyd gritted his teeth as he moved towards Jake.

"Jake..." You sighed as you pulled on Lloyd's shoulder to stop him from moving away from you. "Go home." You smirked at Jake before looking up at the man in front of you. "Lloyd, unless you're going to fuck me with it," You put your hand over the top of his gun and pushed it down. "Put that thing away." Jake scoffed in disgust as he turned away from the pair of you and closed the curtain behind him.

"You'd love for me to do that, wouldn't you, Sunshine," Lloyd smirked down at you as he dropped the gun onto your desk before crashing his lips against yours.

You moaned into his mouth as you threaded your fingers through his short hair, tugging firmly as he firmly grabbed your backside in his large hands. He lifted you and placed you on top of your desk, standing between your legs as you spread them for him.

Lloyd pulled back from you panting as he pushed your summer dress up your thighs. "Fuck. Can smell her." He ripped your panties down your thighs and threw them over his shoulder.

"She's missed you." You moaned as he ran his knuckles through your already wet folds.

"I hope she as." Lloyd hummed as he looked up into your eyes and pinched your chin between the fingers of his other hand. "What about you, Sunshine? You miss me?" He asked as lightly pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth.

You nodded with a soft sigh as Lloyd moved his lips across your skin. "More than you could know." You whispered and began unbuckling his belt. "Now fuck me, Lloyd." You leant back on your desk with your legs spread wide for him. You played with your sensitive clit as you watched him palm his hard cock through his pants.

Lloyd smirked to himself. "I will, Sunshine, but let daddy get a taste. I've missed her sweetness." He licked his lips and dropped to his knees before you.

You let out a breathy moan as Lloyd pressed his mouth against your cunt and began devouring you.

"Fuck. So. Good. Baby." Lloyd groaned against you. "FUCK!" Lloyd pressed his face against your cunt with a moan, his mustache rubbing against your clit as he fucked you with his tongue.

"Fuck, baby." Your head fell back with a deep moan as you threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged making Lloyd groan against you.

Lloyd pulled back from you and shoved three of his thick fingers inside your quivering pussy and pressed his thumb against your clit. "Cum!" Lloyd ordered.

You cried out as you came around his fingers. Fuck, you'd missed how quick he could make you cum.

As Lloyd stood up between your spread legs, his face glistening in your juices and made quick work of his pants, pushing them and briefs down his thighs until his cock could spring free. He spat into his hand before wrapping it around his cock and gave himself a couple of strokes.

Lloyd hooked his arm under your knee and pulled you closer to the edge of your desk. He took a hold of his cock and ran the head through your folds making your breath catch in your throat as the tip nudged your clit.

With a deep moan Lloyd pushed his bulbous head inside your warm wet hole making your eyes roll back with a moan. Lloyd bent down and stuck his tongue into your already open and willing mouth.

You both moaned into each other's mouths as Lloyd's thick cock split you open and he bottomed out.

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders as Lloyd began to move his hips back and forth. "Fuck." You moaned.

Lloyd shoved his face against your shoulder with a groan as you squeezed his cock. "FUCK!... Missed... you... beautiful," He pulled down the strap of your dress so your breast was free and fondled it as he moved his hips at a punishing pace. "Mine... No one... Else's..."

You moaned out as Lloyd ran his tongue over your left nipple before he wrapped his lips around it and began to suck on it. You tangled your fingers in his hair and you arched your back as Lloyd bit your nipple. "Oh, God, Lloyd," You cried out.

Lloyd pulled back with a pop and crashed his lips against yours as he fucked you harder.

He pulled back with a heavy breath. "Fuck!" Lloyd bit his bottom lip as he watched himself slip in and out of your wet pussy. "Oh, fuck," His head fell back with a groan as he moved harder and faster.

He slipped his hand between you and began circling your clit with his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut as you grew closer and closer to your release, switching between muttering praises and begging. Fuck, you'd missed Lloyd.

"C'mon, angel, cum for me... Need it... Please." Lloyd panted as he held your gaze.

You shook your head, "I want... Your-"

Lloyd chuckled as he pressed a short kiss to your lips. "Don't worry, Sunshine," He reached up with his free hand and wrapped his fingers around your throat as he moved his other fingers against your clit harsher. "I'm right behind ya'." He hammered harder into as he squeezed your throat making your eyes roll back.

You let out a an almost silent scream as your orgasm hit. You pulled on Lloyd's hair making him groan in pleasure and let go of your throat as you crashed your lips against his in a heated kiss as Lloyd's movements stilled as he came.

You pulled back from him and rested your forehead against his as you both caught your breath, still holding on to each other's body.

"I'm glad you're not dead, Lloyd." You whispered, gently pushing him back from you as you untangled yourself.

Lloyd chuckled, "Aww, were you worried about me, Sunshine?" He smirked at you as he tucked himself away. "I told you before there's no need."

You rolled your eyes as you hopped off the desk and took your panties from him. "Don't tease, Lloyd. It's not cute." You bent over and pulled your panties on.

Lloyd laughed again, "Don't pout because you missed me, Sunshine."

You laughed as you stood up and looked at him. "You missed me too, or you wouldn't be here, Lloyd." You folded your arms across your chest with a pout.

Lloyd frowned, "I missed your pussy, there's a difference." He folded his arms as he stared at you.

You rolled your eyes at him. "Bullshit!" You huffed as your cell started going off beside you in your desk. You picked it up with a frown, "What is it, Jake-" You gasped in surprise as Lloyd ripped the phone out of your hand and threw it against the wall making it smash. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" You smacked arm angrily.

"We were having a conversation, you don't just answer your cel-"

"IT WAS WORK!" You shouted. "Have you forgotten how many times you did that?"

"Oh, please. You told that little twerp to go home. He knew what we were doing. There's only one reason why he's calling." Lloyd glared at you.

Your mouth hung open for a moment before you began smiling at him. Any time Jake texted or called you whilst you were having your 'vacation' fun, Lloyd got pissy and would fuck you even harder, claiming it was because of 'work'. Now it made sense.

"You're jealous." You smiled at him.

"What?" Lloyd's brows furrowed as he scoffed. "Like fuck I am."

Your head fell back with laughter. "Oh, my god, you're jealous of, Jake." You said teasingly making Lloyd huff.

"I am not jealous of that little fuck." He glared.

"Aww, baby boy," You cupped Lloyd's cheeks and mushed them together. "There's no reason for you to be jealous." You cooed making Lloyd push your hands away from him, only making you  laugh even more.

Lloyd huffed as you continued to tease him. "Shut your mouth, before I shut it for you." He grunted and grabbed his gun from your desk.

"Aww, what's wrong Lloyd? Don't like hearing the truth?" You pouted at him before you let out a soft laugh. "Relax... I won't tell anyone you're really a big, soft, pussy whipped, little-"

You let out a startled gasp as Lloyd grabbed a hold of your throat and shoved you against the wall, forcing his gun in between your lips.

"I warned you." He snarled in your face.

You stared up at him with wide eyes as you pressed your thighs together.

Lloyd looked down and shook his head with a chuckle, "Just a whore for daddy, aren't you?" He asked.

You nodded the best you could with the gun still in your mouth.

Lloyd removed the gun and replaced it with his mouth, forcing his tongue in between your lips as he ground his hips against you, his hardening cock pressing between your legs and making you moan.

"Fahk," He panted against your mouth. "Need to get you home..."

You let out a soft moan as he trailed the tip of the gun up your thigh. "Promise you'll fuck me with it this time?" You asked.

Lloyd groaned, "Baby, I'll fuck you with anything you want." He kissed you again.

[onceuponastory]

chemistry - bucky barnes x reader

The way you move is so dramatic I think I might make you a habit - higher by michael bublé

Plot: Trying to help get her out of the rut she’s been in since her breakup, Y/N’s best friend decides to sign her up for a dance class. There, she meets the passionate and incredibly attractive teacher, Bucky Barnes. Pairing: Dance Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader  Warnings: A tiny mention of being in a rut after a breakup, and of Rumlow being a handsy creep. Also, some slightly possessive Bucky Barnes. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is another one of those AU ideas I have at 1am when I’m meant to be sleeping because I have work that day. ANYWAY, here we are. Sorry if my description of dancing isn’t the best, it’s been ages since I danced. I recommend you listen to Higher, because it partly inspired this fic. Also, dance teacher Bucky specifically looks him in Civil War cause he’s hot, and I said so.

Not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Shifting uncomfortably in her position, Y/N glances around the room. A few weeks ago, Y/N’s boyfriend of a few years broke up with her, sending her into a rut she couldn’t climb out of. That was, however, until Y/N’s best friend told her she had an idea to get her out of this rut. Y/N thought she meant joining a dating app or introducing her to a friend. Turns out she was dead wrong: her best friend signed up for a new dance class. And a dance class is the last thing she wants to do. Who else would want to be seen in public after spending the past few weeks crying and eating ice cream? But her best friend combined with alcohol can be very persuasive. “Just go for one week. If you hate it, you never have to go again.” She had told her. And so, here she is. In all honesty, Y/N is already regretting agreeing to come here. She keeps a watchful eye on the exit so she can slip out when needed. She glances around the room. Everyone else seems so confident, making her feel even more out of her depth. This definitely was a bad idea. Yet, just before she leaves the room,

“Hello everyone.” A voice calls, Y/N turns, and immediately finds herself staring at one of the most gorgeous men she’s ever seen in her life. The man scans the room, his blue eyes looking over everyone. When his eyes reach Y/N, her breath hitches in her throat, all thoughts of her ex gone. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. She can’t leave now. “My name is Bucky, and I’m your dance teacher. I’ve been dancing for almost a decade now, and I’m here because I want to show everyone just how intense and rewarding dance can be.” As Bucky explains how much he loves dancing, Y/N stares at him, looking over every part of him. Huge muscles strain through his red shirt, and his brunette hair is pulled into a man bun, a few loose tendrils falling around his face. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “Now, there are plenty of reasons why you may be here in my class. For example, you may want to try something new, or sharpen your skills.” He looks around the room once more, staring at everyone. In return, everyone keeps their gaze on him, his presence commanding. That, and he’s handsome as fuck. “Or perhaps you just want to meet people, and find a connection.” Bucky states, his eyes falling on her once more, almost as if he can smell the loneliness and heartbreak dripping off of her. Immediately, Y/N blushes, and the edge of Bucky’s lips twitch into a little smirk, almost as if he’s enjoying this. “So I want to start with a little ice breaker. Just introduce yourself and tell us why you’re here.” Oh shit. 

Bucky goes around the room, calling on each person to introduce themselves. He leaves Y/N til last, dragging out her discomfort even further. With her heart pounding, Bucky soon reaches her. “And you are?” He grins. Y/N can already tell he’s enjoying this. Fucker. Stupid, sexy fucker.

“Um, I’m Y/N. And I’m here to….” As her voice trails off, Bucky’s eyebrow raises ever so slightly. There’s no way she can admit her heartbreak in front of everyone, especially not her attractive dance teacher. “Just meet new people.” She finishes, and Bucky nods. Yet, he still keeps his eyes on her, giving her a knowing look, one that tells her he knows there’s more than she’s letting on. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t press her any more.

“Okay, everyone. Let’s get started by getting into pairs.” As soon as she’s sure that Bucky’s gaze is off her, Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. 

This is going to be interesting.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Despite her original awkwardness and unwillingness, Y/N keeps returning to the dance class every week. Part of it is because it is actually fun, and almost all of her class seem really nice. But it’s mostly to see the dance teacher whose captivating gaze has been on her mind ever since she first saw him. And it seems she’s been on his mind, too. Each week, she notices him staring at her, a small smirk on his face. Despite how much she likes having the attention of her attractive teacher, and how good it makes it feel, deep down, it still does little to quell her feelings of self consciousness. Especially since Bucky refuses to speak to her, either about why she is so enticing to him, or even a simple hello. He’s also refused to pick her as his partner for a demonstration in front of the class, like he's done with almost everyone else. Of course, she’s glad she’s not had the possibility to embarrass herself in front of all her classmates, but Bucky’s lack of acknowledgement is driving her crazy. Of course, she knows she could just talk to him, but she’s still far too nervous to even approach him, let alone talk to him. 

So every week she comes back, hoping to find a reason why she and Bucky seem to have such a connection with each other. One week, after the group finishes up a waltz, Bucky claps his hands together, signifying an announcement. 

“Chemistry is something that’s incredibly important in dancing. If you dance with a stranger, you have to make it believable to the audience. Make them think you have known each other for months, years.” Bucky explains. Y/N raises a brow, wondering where he’s going with this. His next words make her wish she hadn’t asked. “So, for this next dance, I want you to pick a new partner, someone you aren’t as close to. Let’s see how believable you are.” As her classmates disperse and try to find someone new, Y/N gulps. Nobody seems to be heading her way. She throws a quick glance at Bucky, hoping he can help, but he’s preoccupied with sorting the music for this routine. 

“Guess we’re partners, then.” A voice sounds. The voice belonging to Brock Rumlow. Shit. Brock is one of the few men in the class. That isn’t the issue, though. The issue is that he’s an unpleasant dickhead, and from what she’s heard, far too handsy, even when he’s told to stop. And now, she has to pretend to have a connection to him.  

“Guess so!” She laughs awkwardly, trying not to grimace as Brock takes her hand in his, wrapping his other around her waist. God, hopefully this is over soon. 

“Are we ready?” Bucky’s voice sounds as he turns back around. “Excellent. Well done, everyone.” He grins, his eyes scanning over the couples. When his gaze reaches Y/N and Brock, his smile immediately falters, and his blue eyes darken. “Right. We’ll start off with a waltz, just to see how you get on.” Bucky’s voice sounds dead, as if his happiness is gone in the blink of an eye. Y/N frowns. What the hell is going on?

However, she has little time to think about it before the music starts, and Brock pulls her closer. Right away, she can smell notes of alcohol on his breath, so strong and sudden it almost makes her gag. As they dance to the music, Y/N tries her best to act like she wants to be there, even though she can already feel Brock’s hands wandering lower. She tries to move his hands, but he suddenly twirls her, spinning her far too fast and suddenly for the speed of the dance. As she spins, she catches Bucky’s gaze. For a moment, everything seems to go in slow motion as their eyes meet. He’s standing with his hands in his pockets, his jaw clenched as he watches Y/N and Brock dance. The whole spin, Bucky keeps his gaze fixed on her. Y/N feels her cheeks heating up. As the dance continues, she sees him staring at them again, looking even more pissed off. Just them. Nobody else. Bucky’s glare makes Y/N feel embarrassed all over again. They must really be terrible if he’s glaring at them like that. Deep down though, she still can’t deny how that look makes her entire body shiver.

Thankfully, the dance ends soon after, and the group takes a moment to catch their breaths. Footsteps sound, and Bucky walks up to Y/N and Brock. “Well done, well done. Now, Mr Rumlow, and…Miss Y/L/N, is it?” Bucky asks, coming to stand by them. Immediately, a shit-eating grin spreads on Brock’s face, whilst Y/N swears her heart almost stops. She’s never been this close to Bucky before. Close enough to see every freckle and beauty mark dotting his face, and the few grey hairs in his stubble. 

“Yes sir. We were good, weren’t we?” Brock grins, straightening his posture. Bucky chuckles.

“Well, Y/N was.” Brock’s face falls, and Y/N’s mouth drops open. If it wasn’t her in this situation, she would laugh. “She perfectly achieved what I was looking for.”

“W-What?” Brock splutters. Y/N is too surprised to even speak. 

“Yes.” Bucky nods, developing a grin of his own. “If it’s alright, I’d like to borrow her for this next dance, just to show everyone how it’s done.” He turns to her, his blue eyes falling on her once more. He smiles, one that she swears makes her knees go weak. “So.” His voice speaks, low, husky, and inviting. Immediately, she’s mesmerised. “Y/N, would you like to be my partner?” He asks, beckoning her closer. Y/N nods with a gulp, already embarrassed as she feels everyone’s gaze on her. But she only focuses on Bucky. He takes her hand in his, sending sparks throughout her entire body. He leads her away from Brock and into the centre of the dance floor. “Music please.” The intro to a song begins to play, one Y/N recognises immediately, and it does little to quell her nerves. This isn’t a waltz. It’s a tango, a dance they haven’t done in a while, and definitely something she wasn’t prepared for. Before she can even say something, Bucky pulls her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. Her sudden proximity to him makes her gasp as the scent of his aftershave enters her nostrils, and Bucky smirks. “It’s alright. Just do what I do.” He whispers. “Ready?” He asks, and she nods.

As the song kicks in, Bucky and Y/N dance together, their bodies connected as they move in time to the music. The feeling of Bucky’s touch against her skin, and feeling the fabric of his shirt between her fingers makes her entire body tingle. Still though, she keeps focused on the dance, despite how being in such close proximity to Bucky is making her brain go haywire. As the song continues, Y/N feels more comfortable in his grasp, like this is where she’s meant to be. She also feels herself becoming more confident. So much so, in fact, that she even throws in a few of her own moves and footwork, ones that Bucky matches effortlessly. “Oh. I see.” He whispers when she’s back in his arms, keeping his gaze trained on her with a smirk, one that Y/N returns. “Try this then.” Without another word, Bucky dips her, making her gasp. She doesn't have time to react before Bucky twirls her. He lets go as she spins, the skirt of her dress spinning out around her. Before she stops, he takes her into his arms once more, wrapping them around her waist to steady her. 

As the song ends, the pair are still wrapped in each other's embrace. As she feels the warmth of Bucky’s body against hers, Y/N matches his breathing, cooling herself down. Although her heart rate still feels like it’s about a million miles a minute. And this time, she knows it’s not just because of the dancing. Bucky spins her around to face him. Y/N looks up, seeing some loose tendrils of Bucky’s hair falling around his face. She lifts her hands, ready to tuck them behind his ears. It’s only when she hears applause that Y/N remembers where she is, and that they’re not alone. Her hands drop. For a moment, Bucky looks disappointed that they’re not alone either. But he quickly fixes a smile onto his face. “Well done.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the class passes by in a blur, Y/N too preoccupied with the intensity and chemistry of her dance with Bucky to focus on anything else. Later that night, Y/N waits outside for her best friend to pick her up. She’s been caught in traffic for the past fifteen minutes, but promises she’s on her way. Y/N sighs, pulling her jacket closer around her as the chilly autumn wind blows. Hopefully her friend gets here soon. While Y/N waits, she tries her best to think of a way to possibly explain what happened tonight, but she can’t put it into words. All she can say is she never wants to dance with anyone else ever again. She still remembers the sensation of Bucky’s body pressed up against hers, and it’s making her just as breathless and giddy as it did earlier on.

“Y/N.” A familiar voice speaks, and Y/N gasps. Bucky. Maybe being delayed isn’t so bad after all. She turns to wave at him, although she’s still unsure of how to even look at him after their passionate dance earlier. 

“Hi Bucky.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to still be here after class ended. Do you need a ride somewhere?” He offers, gesturing to a sleek BMW parked only a few feet away. Bucky’s choice of cars is little of a surprise to Y/N. Judging by the scent of his cologne, he definitely has a lot of money. Y/N has never wished that she didn’t have a ride more than she does in that moment.

“No, it’s okay. My friend is on her way to get me. Thanks though.” Once more, Bucky looks disappointed, but nods regardless.

“By the way, good job tonight. I know I said it already, but you’re a really talented dancer, and I think you’ll go far. I’ll see you next week, alright?” As Bucky turns to leave, Y/N realises she might never have an opportunity like this again: to ask him alone how he really feels about her. 

“Bucky? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. What is it?” He smiles, the same smile that makes her knees go weak. 

“Why did you choose me to dance with you today? You’ve never danced with me before.” Bucky chuckles. He steps closer, and Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat.

“Well, it was on chemistry, wasn’t it? So I had to choose someone I have chemistry with, and who I knew could match the intensity, both of me and the dance. You were a perfect fit.” Y/N can already feel herself falling deeper in love with him, as if their dance tonight didn’t already do that. “And of course, you were having a tough time with Brock.” He explains. Y/N remembers Bucky’s hard, pointed stare in Brock’s direction. At first, she thought it was just because they were terrible. Now, though, she sees it in a new light. Was he…jealous?  

“Thanks.” Bucky nods. Yet, he doesn’t leave, and keeps staring at her. 

“May I ask you a question now?” Y/N nods. “Why did you come to my class?” Immediately, Y/N is cast back to the very first time she and Bucky met, with her standing and watching him as he rattled off explanations for people’s attendance, looking at her when he mentioned finding connections. If only she knew just how deep this connection would go.

“Well, my boyfriend dumped me, so my best friend suggested I come and try something new to get over the heartbreak, and maybe meet someone new.” She just didn’t expect to meet someone like Bucky. Upon the mention of her ex, Bucky tuts. 

“I see. If I may, that ex of yours is a total fucking idiot for dumping someone like you.” The sound of the usually dignified Bucky swearing is unfamiliar, especially when it comes to her. Yet Bucky’s protectiveness over her makes her stomach flutter. “In a strange way, though, I’m glad. Because it brought you to me.” Y/N feels her stomach fluttering even more, and she mumbles another thank you. Y/N and Bucky stand together for a while longer, staring into each other’s eyes, neither saying anything. “Y/N?” Bucky asks, breaking the silence.

“Mhm?” He steps closer, tilting his head slightly. Almost as if he’s about to kiss her. Y/N glances at his lips.

“Would you like to-” But the sound of an approaching engine cuts Bucky off. Y/N huffs. Of course her friend shows up now. Y/N waits to hear what Bucky will say before going. She waited long enough for her friend, so her friend can wait a few minutes for her. To her surprise though, he instead says: “No. It’s alright. You should go.”

“Wait, but-” Y/N gasps, trying desperately to get Bucky to stay with her, or to at least finish his sentence. He looks over at her once more, and for a moment, he hesitates.

“No, it doesn’t matter.” He mumbles. “I’ll see you in class next week, okay?” He smiles. 

And then, he’s gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Don’t worry, I don’t think this is the last you’ve seen of dance teacher Bucky ;)

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[shy-urban-hobbit]

Huskerdust!!

C/W implied suicide via extermination.

Angel took another drag on his cigarette as he leaned his top set of elbows on the wall, the red light that passed for daylight in Pentagram City turning the smoke pink in a way which was momentarily far too reminiscent of Val. He didn't usually come up to the roof but he just needed to be somewhere that wasn't inside right now and Charlie's 'no smoking indoors' rule which everyone usually ignored provided the perfect excuse when the streets were currently more dangerous than usual. 

The atmosphere had been tense ever since the girls had returned from Heaven with the news that the hotel was now target number one for the next extermination but now with just hours left, it had become unbearable. 

The fighting hadn't helped either. Husk had had the nerve to call Angel fake but even a blind man could see the only thing those two could actually agree on right now was the need to keep the hotel safe. Angel never thought he'd say it, but it was unnerving not seeing Charlie and Vaggie presenting a genuine united front on every single little thing.

 

"And here I was thinking this would be the perfect place to get away from you clowns for a few minutes."

Angel rolled his eyes and threw up a one fingered salute he wasn't really feeling, "Fuck you, Whiskers." 

"Maybe if we live to see the end of the week."

Husk leaned on the wall an arms length from the spider, giving him that assessing stare that Angel both loved and hated. It was as gratifying as it was annoying to have someone who could see right through any and all defences he put up, "How you doing, Kid?" 

"Oh, I'm just peachy, can't ya tell? Practically dancin' on the inside." Angel snarked, meeting Husk's gaze in a silent dare to call him out on it. Husk merely stared back (why the fuck did he think it was a good idea to get into a staring contest with a cat?), "Just thinkin' is all."

"What Charlie said about-" Husk jabbed a claw upwards. That had been one of the main sources of division between the princess and her (ex?) girlfriend for days after they got back until they broke the news to the sinner in question. Charlie had been adamant that Angel had a right to know, whilst Vaggie was of the opinion that at this point it was just adding insult to injury with the extermination so close. In the end, Angel had made the decision for them after cornering Charlie and demanding to know why she looked like she was about to start crying whenever she looked at him. Husk had privately been in agreement with Vaggie though - maybe it would have been kinder to let Angel live out what might be his last few days in blissful ignorance of the fact that Heaven would basically rather see him perma-dead than admit they'd fucked up. 

"About me apparently bein' this close to gettin' into Heaven? Nah." Angel threw the remaining half of his cigarette over the edge with an elegant flick of his wrist, suddenly he wasn't in the mood any more, "Can't miss what ya never had, right? Was just thinkin' about how six months ago I wouldn't have given a crap about any of this. The six month extermination, makin' Heaven's personal shit list. None of it." He pulled a fresh cigarette out of the pack in his breast pocket and lit it without taking a drag as he began to pace, giving Husk the impression it was more so he had something to do with his hands, "Even back when I was alive I used to -what'd you call it - self destruct all the god damn time and when I got down here, if it weren't for Val lockin' every soul he owned in the studio durin' the extermination I would've taken my chances outside every time."

He gestured in the air with one of his free hands, "Before this goddamned fucking hotel and every fucker in it, I didn't give a crap what happened to me but now, for the first time in my god damn fucking life, afterlife. Whatever-" he paused to take a long drag, the cigarette trembling slightly in shaky fingers before Angel let out a laugh like the one when he'd torn Husk a new one in the bar that night - disbelieving bordering on hysterical - before looking away like he was about to admit something shameful, "I really. Really don't wanna die tomorrow, Husk." 

"And you ain't gonna." Husk snapped out as his wings spread, causing Angel to startle slightly at the harshness of his tone, the cat demon took a breath to try and calm the swell of emotions Angel's confession caused to rise up, "I mean. I've seen you shoot, you've got some serious skill. Vaggie knows any possible tricks the exorcists might try, Charlie is the literal princess of Hell with all the powers that come with it. Alastor sees this place as his territory now, trust me, if anybody knows how much that creepy fucker doesn't like other people coming after his things..." he gave a small shudder he hoped the other didn't see. 

"...and you?" 

Husk would be lying if he said the question didn't catch him off guard but Angel had been honest with him. Only fair he returned the favour, "I ain't letting any of those winged fuckers touch you."

And there was that smirk Husker hated (loved) so much, "'Cos you wanna be the only winged fucker who gets ta-" 

"Don't even finish that sentence, asshole."

Husk moved to stand next to him, draping a wing over the other to shield him from the wind that had picked up during their talk, "I got your back, kid." 

Angel shifted his weight to lean against the shorter demon, giving a small mental cheer when the other didn't move away and let him kiss concrete, "Back at ya, Husky."

[gwayenjoyer]

there is something so uniquely fucking vulnerable and REAL about every song that frank iero has written. i mean the lyrics specifically. death spells, celebration, parachutes, future violents. its so fucking honest and fucked up. frank iero is a pretty troubled individual (at least at the time of those projects) and it is really comforting to see someone lay all that shit out so proudly. he doesnt hold back, everything that he needs to get out is written out and sang clear as fuckin day. he doesnt sugarcoat things, he doesnt worry about grand, overarching metaphors (which are cool a lot of the time, but you run the risk of people missing the point.), he doesnt lose anything in his editing process. I just love his lyricism. its a skill in itself to be that honest with yourself about your struggles, its an entirely different thing to be so unabashedly open about those struggles and i just have so much respect and admiration for franks ability to translate such complicated feelings into such beautiful words in a way that makes so much fucking sense. i always joke about frank being the most emo mother fucker out there, but its because most people dont get it, most people havent tried to confront their flaws and insecurities and fears and be honest. that shit is hard! and i could NEVER even fathom showing those words to other people. i mean the only fight ive ever been in was over my journal. i guard my words with my life and would rather die than have someone read all the dirty, raw, and downright fucked up shit that i write there and it all makes franks words mean more to me. his openess and honesty is inspirational. especially since i can relate to so much of what hes written.

id give anything to tell him this, to ensure that hes aware of the impact that hes had on me. i feel like he deserves it.

[shady-swan-jones]

She's Perfect But You're Mine

Summary:

Killian has a girlfriend. Emma handles it with the utmost maturity and grace.

Or not.

Ao3

-

Damn you, rum, was the first thought that came to Emma’s mind when she woke up, her hair tousled, wearing the inner parts of yesterday’s outfit, and already feeling angry clouds of an impending hangover. She couldn’t be more pathetic, she thought, right before noticing a thin line of saliva adorning her pillow.

Outstanding. 

Why did the alcohol gods punish her so harshly? She was rightfully celebrating catching her latest skip, Felix the Fiend -Felix the Fucker if you ask her- with her friends. Her group was a patchwork of people led by her employers, the charmingly dubbed, the Charmings. The only thing that made her move, very reluctantly and slowly, from the bed, was the thought of teasing Killian. He missed her singing, or rather murdering, Michael Jackson’s Beat It. Her performance in the club was Billboard Hot 100 calibre, but her roommate skipped the whole thing for mysterious reasons.

As she rounded the corner, overlooking their kitchen, his reasons were mysterious no more. In fact, judging from the adoring looks the small brunette was giving him over eggs and bacon, his reasons became painfully obvious. 

Snuggling against each other, the pair hadn’t seen her approaching. Emma had a few seconds to have a massive internal freak out over the perfect picture they made, straight from a Folgers breakfast ad. 

“Swan, good morning. You’re looking particularly fresh at this early hour, if I may say,” Killian said cheerfully, totally unaware of the absurdity of the scene. It’s not that Killian didn’t have girls over, his stubble and rosy cheeks were more successful than a dog with the ladies. A scarcely clad, tousled hair girl in their kitchen wasn’t out of the ordinary. The thing is, he never had breakfast with them. 

Just when she thought she couldn’t be any more surprised, the real bomb fell. 

“Emma, this is my Belle, my girlfriend."

Motherfucker. 

A few things had scarred her college life, catching Ruby with -and on- the TA in her Bug, spilling scalding cocoa all over Elsa’s lab coat, finding out Neal had a girlfriend, one besides herself. Her meeting Killian, knocking on his dorm door to stop him from singing “We are the Champions”, loudly, for the twelfth time, out of tune, didn’t even make the top ten. She therefore had a difficult time explaining to herself why this stupid , ill advised crush she had on her roommate wouldn’t go away. 

After that day, he’d done it on purpose. Playing his guitar at full volume to taunt her -this arrogant bastard-, going so far as to play Two Doors Down , in every annoying voice he could muster. “So Emma, what do you say,” he’d teased, as his hand had left the door handle and joined the other one in the guitar, “let me take you home tonight.” 

And thus began a friendship, but dammit that was almost a decade ago, including a two-year old cohabiting arrangement. Her ill-advised crush on her roommate should have been over by now.

“So, Belle,” he started as Belle leaned further into him, tickling his beard, “this is Emma Swan, my friend and roommate.”

The brunette extended her hand gracefully while maintaining eye contact. Her green eyes appeared for all intents and purposes, honest and excited.

“Emma Swan,” Emma supplied redundantly. Nice way to make a good first impression, so smooth, Emma.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you, Emma. I couldn’t believe you talked him into watching the Princess Bride. I’m a fool for those Westley types,” Belle explained while patting Killian’s chest. His pointed, and adorable ears were quickly dusted with a shade of red. 

“Who isn’t?” Emma asked and smiled the best as she could, wondering if this was normal or if her awkwardness was cruelly evident.

“That’s true, but it’s also what sold me on this guy. Quoting the movie in real time? My prince!” she says, cupping Killian’s chin while he gives her his most charming smile. The lopsided one, with a hint of teeth. The charming fucker. 

They make such a disney couple, Emma waits for blue little birds to start chirping around them. The sight is so perfect, it makes her want to puke through her eyes. 

“Ha. Yes.” she shuffles around them and grabs the cup with the painted swans. It's tall and the porcelain handle is broken, leaving her to grab it with both of her hands, even if the inside is scalding. Killian calls it her “chalice”. He gives names to everything, it’s an inside joke. They haven’t shared one for some time.

With her -tense- back towards them, she hears Killian speak to her. “Would it be okay with you if Belle stayed with us for a few days? Her plumbing is out."

She swivels and faces them, willing her eyes not to bulge. 

"I hope I'm not in the way. You won't even notice I'm here", Emma highly doubts that, with Killian choosing this moment to tighten the arm around her waist. "I can bake too, Killian tells me you have a sweet tooth". 

She's never rejected baked goods in her life, but even the biggest chocolate chip cake can't wash away the bitterness in her mouth. 

"And I want to get to know you. We can be friends". 

They're both looking at her expectantly as seconds go by and she doesn't speak.

It's then where Killian employs his tactic to make her open up, the one that got her to share about her sordid past, the ex still haunting her dreams and her inner, most genuine need for family. He holds her eyes and speaks softly. 

"Love?" 

At this second two things happen: Belle opens her mouth to answer, then closes it, squinting her meticulously shaped eyebrows at him. 

And Emma hears that word and pain washes over her, realising it won't be aimed at her, not in the way she wants deep inside. 

Her answer is drowned by excited screams. As she recounts to Ruby later that day over a couple -dozens- of beers, she just killed her chances with Killian once and for all. 

That cake better be worth it.